


Our hearts once heaved but forever grew still

by BulletStrong



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Supernatural Elements, Swan Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:38:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulletStrong/pseuds/BulletStrong
Summary: “I, uh, realized that you’re simply a hallucination that I see in high stress situations as a coping mechanism.”“Am I now?” Regina’s smirking at her and there’s enough mischief in those brown eyes to make Emma press her thighs together. She cannot seriously be turned on by her own hallucination. That’s another level of insanity and proves she really does need to get laid.God, Freud would have a field day with her.“Anyway, I’ve decided to just let you do whatever it is you do and not fight it. Coping mechanisms are supposed to be good, right?” Emma shrugs.“Coping mechanisms are good. Extreme anxiety that results in apparent psychosis and hallucinations? Not so much, dear.” Regina snickers. “But worry not. I’m not a hallucination.”Or that one where Emma starts seeing a woman no one else can see while trying to avoid the mafia lackeys of a loan shark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sam Wroten](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sam+Wroten).



> So, I start graduate school in four days and starting a fic is probably my worst idea ever but here we are! This is my sixtieth story and I'm so psyched that I've been able to contribute to this fandom! I want to wish my friend Sam Wroten a happy birthday as well <3
> 
> Also, my longest piece ever is going to be released this month so keep an eye out for the Swan Queen Supernova! Thank you for all your support over the years.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story :)

It wasn’t the incessant beeping that woke her. It was that spine tingling sensation when you feel someone’s eyes on you that had her blinking owlishly and squinting through the bright white lights above her to look around the prison infirmary.

 

That was when she saw her for the first time. She was standing at her bedside, looking down on her with a grim expression, looking like a goddamn angel with the lights crowning around her dark hair. Emma, still high from whatever pain medication they gave her, just smiled at her like an idiot, but it seemed to jolt the woman.

 

“You... you can see me?” She asked wearily, her head tilted and eyes wide.

 

“You bet I do,” Emma flirted with a slanted smirk as her eyes dropped down to take in the woman’s curvaceous body encased in tight, all black clothing, which wasn’t regulation for the nurses working there. Briefly she wondered how a civilian got into the prison but quickly shook that off when the woman gingerly sat down on the narrow sliver of free space by Emma’s hip.

 

“It was very foolish to pick a fight with an inmate three times your size, Miss Swan.” The woman said. Those expressive brown eyes trailed down Emma’s body in a much less flirtatious manner, taking in the bandages, major bruising and the minor cuts with a grimace.

 

“How do you know my name, lady?” Emma squinted, suspicious.

 

The brunette didn’t miss a beat. “It’s on your chart, dear.”

 

“Oh,” Emma twisted her lips, embarrassed. “I heard that...” She inhaled dramatically, “to get respect in prison you have to beat the shit out of the scariest chick...”

 

“And how’d that work out for you?” The woman smirked, gesturing toward the beeping heart monitor and her aching body. “Perhaps you should learn to keep your head down and avoid danger.”

 

“That just isn’t the Swan way.” Emma grins and the brunette stared at her like she was a puzzle for a few moments before tentatively returning the smile.

 

“Yes, well, the Swan way got you here. Battered and bruised. Speaking to me.” She emphasized the last point a bit too much but Emma’s brain was practically fried.

 

As her eyes started to droop, she said, “It did get me talking to you, a beautiful lady... I’d say it works just fine.”

 

When she opened her eyes, she was handcuffed to a bed at a nearby hospital. They eventually informed her that the nurses at the infirmary discovered serious internal bleeding just in the nick of time to save her life. When asked how they realized something was wrong, neither infirmary nurse could recall why they had a niggling feeling that something wasn’t right.

 

Either way, Emma was grateful.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t see her again for a few months. 

 

Emma served her sentence for possession of stolen goods and was released on a chilly November afternoon with only the clothes on her back, the black leather watch that was confiscated when she was dragged into the facility, and a few extra scars that weren’t there a year ago.

 

Her ex and bane of her existence, Neal Cassidy, left her the Volkswagen they stole, as if that would make them even, and as she walked toward the yellow car, she saw her again.

 

There she was, leaning against the side of her car, wearing the same clothes she did all those months ago, and smiling at her genuinely. It’s the kind of smile that made Emma feel special for some reason.

 

“Hello, Miss Swan.” She greeted enthusiastically and pushed away from the vehicle to stand directly in front of her.

 

Emma gave her a little awkward wave back. “Hey... _you_. Uh, listen, I don’t know if you’re, like, a cop or something but I already told you guys that I don’t want to press charges against Mal.”

 

“Oh...” The woman shook her head, “No, I’m not a police officer.”

 

At that point, Emma started to feel weird about the whole situation. This woman somehow had access to the prison infirmary without detection and then showed up looking exactly the same months later and claimed not to be an officer, which was probably the only occupation she could think of that would fit this scenario.

 

Emma tossed her car key in her hand until the sharp end was gripped between her fingers in case she needed to defend herself. The brunette must’ve noticed her change in body language cause her face loses all that enthusiasm and she starts to wring her fingers together.

 

“I’m frightening you,” She stated dejectedly. “I apologize. That... wasn’t my intention.”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Emma pushes past her to jab her key into the cars rusted lock and threw open the door as quickly as she could, not wanting her back to be turned to this woman.

 

When she turns around to ask for answers, the brunette is gone. The parking lot is empty. Something heavy settled in Emma’s gut. She just had a feeling that something wasn’t right.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t see her again for several years and Emma actually felt bad about it for a long while. The woman seemed genuinely excited to talk to her and Emma, in her paranoia and weariness, basically sent her away. Something about those brown eyes stayed with her as she tried to survive on the streets of Boston and she never forgot those short encounters with the beautiful stranger at the prison.

 

She got tired of just surviving though and it’s the words the mysterious woman once whispered to her in the infirmary that pulled her out of the funk she found herself in.

 

_“Yes, well, the Swan way got you here.”_

 

Her old habits and bad judgment landed her in prison and then tossed her on the street. It never worked well for her, so why would she keep employing the same strategy? The moment she remembered those soulful eyes practically begging her to stop living the way she had been, she started searching for some way to get her life back on track.

 

She was squatting on a street corner during the holiday season when some dude balled up his newspaper and aimed for the garbage can near her only to miss and almost hit her square in the face. The guy shrugged and wiped his lips with a napkin before walking away and Emma snickered under her breath at the rudeness. Nothing new for a New Yorker, though.

 

She snatched the balled up newspaper and prepared to toss it in the trash when she caught a glimpse of the advertisement section promoting a loan shark just a few blocks away.

 

In giant block lettering, with a small cartoon man in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants off to the side gesturing toward them, it said, “ _Sal’s Loans: where New Yorkers go when they need a little help_ ” _._ Underneath, they briefly explained that their low interest rates were unrivaled and a light bulb flashed on in Emma’s mind. A light bulb that should’ve been smashed and thrown in the trash but the blonde was desperate enough to rip the advertisement out of the newspaper and shove it into the pocket of her dirty red leather jacket.

 

After begging for change for a few more hours with no luck at all, she found herself standing outside the shady apartment building that housed the office of Salvatore Romano, the loan shark. She weighed the pros and cons, and eventually came to the conclusion that she could always run whenever the loan shark came asking for reimbursement. She was good at running and laying low.

 

The problem? She failed to realize Sal Romano was a low ranking member of the Gambino mob family and had way more resources than she planned for.

 

That was the brief, yet tragic, story that lead to this very moment, to Emma crouching behind a crate in an abandoned warehouse in the heart of Brooklyn while men with pistols search every inch of the building.

 

And, because God has a sense of humor apparently, this is the moment she gets that prickly feeling on her back that makes her hair stand.

 

“You should probably run, dear.”

 

Emma yelps loudly at the unexpected voice right next to her ear and covers her mouth with her palm as she swivels to see _her_ standing behind her. It’s _her_ , the mystery woman she saw twice when she was nineteen and couldn’t forget about no matter how hard she tried.

 

She has a million and one questions but her heart pounds against her rib cage as she quietly shushes her and tugs her behind the crate, taking note of just how cold the brunette’s hand is. Emma dramatically whispers, “Keep your voice down! Are you crazy?!”

 

“They can’t hear me.” She says with a frown and Emma scoffs as she looks away to peer around the edge of the crate. A burly man with two pistols, one in each hand, is across the room, nudging a box with his foot. “I repeat, you should run, Miss Swan.”

 

“Run where?” Emma whips her head around to stare at the brunette incredulously.She points toward the middle of the room and jokes, “Run into the arms of Prince Charming over there?”

 

The woman rolls her eyes as she jerks her head toward a rusted machine several feet away. “There’s an exit over there. It leads to the roof but there’s a fire escape on the left side of the building. If you stay here, they will catch you.”

 

“Oh, yeah? Who says, your crystal ball?” When Emma peers around the corner of her hiding spot again, the guy with two pistols is closer than before, slowly inching toward her. “Or... logic.” She hears a smug laugh that’s a bit too loud for the situation they find themselves in and grits her teeth. “Okay, fine, we’ll make a break for it but you have to keep your voice down. You’re going to get me killed.”

 

“That is the exact opposite of what I’m doing, dear.” She says at full volume and Emma’s jaw pops when her teeth grind.

 

Instead of unpacking that sentence, she swipes a loose piece of concrete and tosses it across the room, waiting until it rattled against machinery on the opposite side and garners the attention of the idiot with two pistols. Just as he turns his back, Emma bolts from her spot and makes a break for the exit behind the large machine.

 

A gunshot zips past her thigh and pings off the rusted metal before embedding into the crate where she’d been hiding. The dude with two pistols whips around and notices his colleague aiming at her again and lifts his own weapons to take aim.

 

“Shit!” Emma grunts and practically dives for the door, nearly smacking into it as bullets start flying. One cracks into the concrete near her head and her ear starts ringing at the explosive sound. She manages to throw open the door and start crawling out. She looks back and what she sees has her frozen.

 

Her brunette companion is standing straight up, looking at Emma with wide, worried eyes, and the bullets zipping through the air are _going through her._ Emma’s heart stops when she sees another bullet fly through the brunette’s torso, like she’s made up of a dark mist. She scrambles away with a blood curdling scream. She throws her body back, into the door, away from bullets and thugs and a woman that just may be a _demon_ or something.

 

The brunette’s eyes turn melancholy as she stands there and watches Emma run away from her, but Emma’s brain can’t compute the emotion, not when bullets are still flying and they’re flying _through_ the lady’s body and there’s _no blood._

 

She bolts like a bat out of hell up the stairs and onto the roof before stopping to breathe for a second. As she huffs, she frantically searches for the fire escape. It’s on the left side of the building, just like the woman— _the thing—_ said it would be.

 

Just as she hears footsteps clomping up the stairs behind her, she heads toward the fire escape and descends as quickly as she can with her heart beat thrumming in her ears, one of which is still ringing from the gunfire.

 

She’s completely out of breath by the time she reaches her Bug, which she parked in the grocery store parking lot a few blocks away from the resturant where she planned to meet her bounty. That evasion trick obviously didn’t work too well since Sal’s goons started tailing her not long after she started walking. Her hands shake as she flips through the keys and opens her door to slip into the drivers seat.

 

She twists the key in the ignition and sighs with relief when the car starts without any problems. She darts her eyes up to check the rear view mirror and sees a grimacing face staring back at her and jolts so hard she nearly cracks her head open on the drivers side window.

 

“Hello again, Miss Swan.” That _thing_ says sheepishly then pulls her lips into a worried line. Emma stares at her with wide, unmoving eyes, her arms up in a defense position against her chest, and stops breathing until the brunette clears her throat. “You should probably get out of here. They followed you.”

 

She points toward the street and sees the at least five goons jogging in her direction. She’s just relieved their guns aren’t drawn but she definitely doesn’t want to see what’ll happen if they catch her. She squints at the brunette through the rear view mirror and jerks her head. “Yeah, I will. Now scram.”

 

“We don’t have time for this!” The brunette huffs. Then, when Emma makes no moves, she growls, “Are you always this stubborn? I won’t hurt you, but they _will_. So go!”

 

Emma ponders that for a few seconds and almost insists that she leave but she notices that the mob guys are within fifty feet of her car and the demon lady is right. She doesn’t have time to argue. She throws the car into reverse and peels out of the parking lot, leaving skid marks on the pavement as she goes. She checks the rear view mirror to see if they’re being followed but all she can see is those big brown eyes staring at her.

 

“Could you move to the side or—“ The woman disintegrates into dust like a goddamn Avenger and Emma would scream if her brain wasn’t completely malfunctioning.

 

“Better, dear?”

 

Emma jumps and smacks her head against the tin roof of her car before glaring at the woman that suddenly appeared in the passenger seat.

 

“ _Christ_. _”_ Emma’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she exhales shakily, “ _Who_ are you?”

 

“My name is Regina.” The brunette—Regina—smiles at her and, god, she’s gorgeous. Emma shakes that thought off real quick.

 

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear enough,” Emma huffs as she swerves around a civilian crossing the street. Regina is still smiling like she’s won the lottery, which starts to freak her out even more than the whole turn-to-dust-and-reappear thing. “ _What_ are you?”

 

The brunette’s smile loses some of that brightness. “I’m... I’m here to help you.”

 

“Help me? What are you, my guardian angel or something?” Emma heaves a short laugh that quickly becomes a choking sound when Regina just bites her lip and shrugs unconvincingly. “No... No—I mean, aren’t guardian angels supposed to be family members that kicked the bucket watching over me?”

 

“You don’t have a family.” Regina states stoically and _ouch_. She has a point. Growing up in the foster care system left her as alone at eighteen as she was as a newborn. She was a temporary fixture in several families but none were ever truly hers.

 

“Look, whatever you are, I’m fine. I don’t need your help. I need you to leave me alone.” Emma tries to sound firm, to not let the small part of her that’s kind of enjoying the company of another person— _thing_ —take hold.

 

Regina thrusts her hand out and, despite Emma’s foot pressing down on the gas, the car slows to stop on the side of the road. So she has magical powers too? _Great_.

 

“Miss Swan, your likelihood of certain death is much too high. If I go, it’ll only keep rising. You’ve continued to act foolishly and impulsively, and now you’re in a position that leaves you vulnerable. I could leave... but I could also be your partner in this. Just for this.”

 

Emma scratches her cheek and avoids the searching gaze latched onto her. “Lady, dying doesn’t seem so bad when life sucks, okay?”

 

Regina’s mouth opens slightly then closes with a snap, like she wants to say something but thinks better of it. After a few terse seconds, she whispers, “Perhaps things seem grim now, Miss Swan, but they do—“

 

“Get better? Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all that before.” Emma sighs before realizing she’s reached the street where she usually parks to sleep for the night. With regret, she keeps driving. She can’t stay here, not when the mobsters have been tailing her for god knows how long. Her knuckles turn white as her thoughts churns. “They couldn’t see you, right? Or hear you? That’s why you didn’t shut up when I shushed you.”

 

Regina keeps staring at her in that searching way as she says, “You’re the only one that has ever seen me.”

 

“I’m the only one...” Emma exhales, “So you could totally be a figment of my imagination, cause losing my sanity—the only thing I have left at this point—would be par for the course.”

 

She expects a sigh or a rebuttal or _something_ , but when all she hears is the car engine, she turns to find herself utterly alone once again.

 

* * *

 

She hasn’t seen her in days and she realizes that she’s only seen her during high stress situations. There was the infirmary, the day she was released from prison and had no idea what would happen or what she’d do, and the full blown attack by the mob goons.

 

With this information in mind, she heads to the local library and logs onto their computer to do research. She picks the one in the corner, where no one can peek over and see her searches. It’s not hard to find a spot though. Most people are working or in class early on a Monday.

 

She types in “ _hallucinations during high stress situations”_ and finds dozens of articles about the subject, each reaffirming her belief that she’s descended into psychosis. WebMB even says so and she gasps for air for a few minutes until the librarian gives her some side eye. So, okay, she might be absolutely insane but at least she’s got some leads that make sense. That’s a win, right?

 

She stumbles out of the library and heads toward her car. She gets distracted by a hot dog vendor, stops to ask how much it is, and scoffs when he tells her it’s three dollars. Still, she forks over the exact change and practically drools when the guy hands over the hot dog in a bun. She squirts some ketchup onto half then slathers the other in mustard before chomping down on the half covered in tangy ketchup.

 

She chews slowly as she notices a dude leaning against a telephone pole about half a block away. He’s pretending to read the newspaper crinkled in his meaty hands but his eyes keep darting toward with intention.

 

“Ah, christ.” She groans as he starts walking toward her. She glares at him as she shoves the entire mustard half into her mouth then wipes her lips with the back of her hand. With her mouth full, she mumbles, “Can’t even eat in peace.”

 

She swallows roughly, nearly choking on the food, then swiftly makes a break for it, running at full speed down the alley that crosses behind the library. The mob lackey is buff as hell and huffs just to keep her in his sights. She cuts through another alley and tosses three garbage cans that were sidled to the side onto the path behind her. She loses him as he struggles to step through the garbage, yelling about his new leather shoes getting dirty, and makes it to the Bug unscathed.

 

She skids to a stop and gapes at the brunette leaning against her car casually with a broad grin. “Miss Swan, how lovely to see you again.”

 

Emma whines in the back of her throat but doesn’t bothering making any more of a fuss. She throws herself into the drivers seat and takes off down the street. Of course, losing your hallucination isn’t that easy, because there she is in the passenger seat again.

 

Emma smiles disingenuously and sarcastically says, “We just _have_ _to_ stop meeting like this.”

 

“We do, which means we need to get you out of this mess.” _To the point._ The way this woman walks and talks... it’s so unlike Emma, but she supposes the hallucination could be projecting the sophistication Emma always wished she could have.

 

“Well, I have to either come up with the money I took, plus the interest, or disappear somehow.” Emma worries her bottom lip.

 

“Wow,” The hallucination chuckles, “I’m quite surprised you didn’t fight me on my suggestion.”

 

Emma looks over and sweeps her gaze over Regina’s taut thighs encased in black leggings, her flat tummy and rounded breasts in a black blouse with straining buttons, and her protruding collarbones that Emma just wants to run her tongue over. She blows out a breath and tries to shake off the sudden lust flooding her veins. She quickly rattles off the information she got from the internet, “I, uh, realized that you’re simply a hallucination that I see in high stress situations as a coping mechanism.”

 

“Am I now?” Regina’s smirking at her and there’s enough mischief in those brown eyes to make Emma press her thighs together. She cannot seriously be turned on by her own hallucination. That’s another level of insanity and proves she really does need to get laid.

 

God, Freud would have a field day with her.

 

“Anyway, I’ve decided to just let you do whatever it is you do and not fight it. Coping mechanisms are supposed to be good, right?” Emma shrugs.

 

“Coping mechanisms are good. Extreme anxiety that results in apparent psychosis and hallucinations? Not so much, dear.” Regina snickers. “But worry not. I’m not a hallucination.”

 

“Isn’t that exactly what a hallucination would say?” Emma glances at the woman from the corner of her eye, just to make sure Regina hasn’t disappeared yet. “Well, whatever you are—ghost, figment of my imagination, guardian friggin angel—it doesn’t matter. You haven’t tried to kill me yet so I’ll roll with it.”

 

“Excellent!” Regina’s smiling in that way that makes Emma’s stomach bottom out so she looks away before she gets into a car wreck. “So, what’s your plan?”

 

“Plan?”

 

“Yes, dear. A plan.” Regina’s head drops so she can pin Emma with an incredulous look. “How are we going to save your life?”

 

“Well, I’ve finally found a job that hires felons so I can’t skip town. I guess I’ll have to pay Sal back what I owe him.”

 

“And since you’re evading his men, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you don’t have the means to pay him back at the moment?”

 

“Hell no.”

 

“So...” Regina tilts her head, still looking incredulous, and Emma groans as she stops at a red light.

 

“I could...” Emma snaps her fingers, “rob a bank!”

 

“And end up back in prison? Idiot.”

 

“Hey!” Emma sends her a piercing glare. “Do you have any ideas, smart ass?”

 

“I thought I was just a hallucination, a figment of _your_ imagination? I’m not supposed to have a mind of my own.” Regina snarks back. Emma growls and pounds her fists against the steering wheel. Regina’s high heeled boot treads over something sticky on the floor and the brunette mumbles a scathing “ _ugh_ ” as she leans down to rub her fingers over the leather shoes. As she does that, her eyes fall on a crumpled up paper sticking out from under the floor mat and pulls it out. She twists it toward Emma. “What’s this?”

 

The blonde peers over and rolls her eyes at the paper. “It’s this notorious drug dealer with a huge bounty on his head. He went underground a few months ago, right before his trial, and no bounty hunter has been able to track him down. He’s worth, like, a quarter of a million now.”

 

“That’s it,” Regina smooths out the bounty poster on her thigh and runs her fingers across each wrinkle until it lays flat.

 

“Huh?” Emma watches her with mild curiosity.

 

“Miss Swan, you catch this,” Regina squints at the poster, “Lorenzo Falso and you’ll be able to pay back your loan plus any interest the loan shark would request!”

 

Emma snorts derisively. “Bounty hunters with more experience and resources have come up empty handed but you think I’ll be able to catch him? That’s just a waste of time.”

 

“It can’t hurt to try.” Regina tries to reason, “If you find him, you have the money. If you don’t, then we’ll just be back at square one.”

 

Emma sighs, pressing down on the acceleration and checking her rear view mirror to see if they’re being followed. She turns to look at her and finds an empty passenger seat. She clears her throat to dispel the disappointment she feels. _Of course she’s gone, Emma, she’s a hallucination._ She looks back at the road before something computes in her brain.

 

She does a double take and, yep, that’s the wanted poster, smoothed out and much less crinkled than when she had balled it up and tossed it to the wayside last week, on the passenger seat. She turns into an alley and throws the car in park and, with a shaking hand, reaches over to grip the paper.

 

She runs her fingers over the paper and gasps under her breath. She slowly leans back in her seat and stares at the tin roof with wide eyes. She doesn’t move for a good twenty minutes, because... _can figments of your imagination move things?_

 

* * *

 

She contemplates calling Archie, the shrink she was assigned to during her prison stint. He helped her talk through a lot of her issues and she truly came out of lock up a better person because of him, even if she sometimes felt she was exactly the same as she was ten years ago. When she was released, he slipped her his business card and told her to call him if she ever needed anything but she simply tucked the card away in a yellow folder and stuffed it under the drivers side seat.

 

She’s staring at that wrinkled, stained card now as she sits in her car on an empty street and wondering whether to call. If she confesses to seeing a ghost or hallucination or whatever the hell Regina is, will he call the authorities and lock her up somewhere a little more permanent?

 

He was a good guy and seemed kind and understanding, but he was also a mental health professional. He may think locking her in a padded room and shoving pills down her throat would be the best course of action. Then again, what if Regina was a hallucination that could disappear with some medication? Emma frowns at the card. Would she even want her to disappear?

 

Regina has been a bright spot lately, even if her appearances have been a source of worry. Since prison, Emma has been alone, wandering the streets and barely surviving, but it’s been nice talking to another person— _or thing, or whatever._

 

So she worries about calling but in the end, she dials his number and anxiously waits as it rings several times. She almost hangs up after a solid ten seconds but before she can jerk the phone away from her ear, there’s a click and a cheery voice.

 

“Hello, this is Doctor Hopper speaking. How may I assist you?” He hasn’t changed a bit. His voice is still full of joyful optimism and she can’t stifle a small smile in response.

 

“Hi, Archie. It’s Emma Swan. You counseled me—“

 

“Of course! Emma, I’m so glad you called!” Archie greets her with just as much enthusiasm and Emma feels a bit of joy at being remembered. “How have you been?”

 

At that, Emma stumbles, “I’m, uh, good. I just...”

 

Now, his tone becomes softer, worried. “Is there something on your mind?”

 

She has to hold back a scoff at that. There’s so many things weighing on her mind, but most of them he can’t help her with. She’s not even sure he can help with Regina. He’s a wise older guy with a doctorate in psychology and a penchant for adopting Dalmatians, not a paranormal investigator or demonologist. Then again, if this was all in her head, he was qualified to help, but would he ever consider any other option than mental illness? Probably not, which in some respects is logical.

 

“I’ve been... seeing someone.” Emma shares carefully.

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” She can practically hear his grin and furrows her brows. Then, “After Neal, I know it must be difficult to open your heart to someone, but I’m so happy to hear you have.”

 

 _Oh._ Oh no. Emma grimaces and rubs at the nape of her neck. Because of course he’d gleam that from the conversation. She’d laugh if she wasn’t about to cry.

 

“No, Archie. I’m seeing someone and... I’m the only one that does.” She whispers it as if she’s in a crowd and doesn’t want to be overheard. The words feel like sandpiper gliding across her tongue.

 

The line goes silent for a few seconds and it’s so excruciating that Emma almost hangs up. But Archie let’s out a soft “oh” that sounds like it expelled from his lungs in shock. She can imagine him sitting in his office alongside the offices of the guards, his eyes wide and unfocused as the reality of the situation sinks in.

 

“Yeah. Oh.” She mutters under her breath.

 

“How long?” He asks just as softly, no judgement in his tone.

 

She winces. “Since I got attacked my first week locked up.”

 

“Emma...” She can hear his concern and squeezes her eyes shut until she sees white. “Constantly or in spurts?”

 

She shakes her head, “No, twice on prison grounds then nothing for a few years. Now she pops up a lot.”

 

“She?”

 

“Yeah, and she’s always wearing the same thing.” He gums and Emma feels a sudden need to defend the figment of her imagination. “She’s not telling me to hurt myself or anyone else. It’s not like that. She’s ... she seems worried for my safety.” When he simply breathes down the line, seemingly stunned, she feels a lump in her throat. “I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?”

 

“Your mind is perfectly in tact, Emma. You haven’t lost anything.” He says it with such kindness and it has a few salty tears dripping from her lashes onto her cheek. “Why don’t you come to my secondary office on Storybrooke Boulevard in the Bronx around five in the afternoon? I have a free hour and can pencil you in.”

 

She’s already shaking her head before he can finish getting the words out. “I don’t have the money to pay you, Archie.”

 

“I’m not asking you to come as a client. I’m asking as a friend. No charge.”

 

Her jaw unclenches and her mouth falls open at the generous offer. She looks around the empty street, trying to string together words that could show him how much she appreciates it. All that tumbles from her lips is a quiet agreement and he latches onto it, hanging up after he gets her to write down his office address on the back of his card before she can change her mind.

 

Just as she’s stuffing her beat up flip phone into her leather jacket’s pocket, she feels her presence again and meekly greets her. “Hey.” When Emma looks over, she sees just how intently the brunette is looking her. She swipes at her cheeks to remove the tear tracks but it’s too late. Regina clearly saw them if her pitying expression is anything to go by. She quickly brushes it off with a surly, “What do you want now?”

 

“I... was feeling lonely, I suppose.” Regina says, her voice a low purr that’s so understanding and knowing that Emma could drown in the warmth of it. “Perhaps we could just sit here, together, for a while?”

 

Regina’s hand slides over the center console and lands on her forearm. It’s the first time they’ve really touched and the brunette’s skin is surprisingly hot, invisibly scorching Emma’s as she squeezes the muscle under her hand. Regina can touch her and she’s warm.

 

Regina feels real to her.

 

And because Emma sees nothing but honesty in her request, her inner lie detector not pinging, she nods hesitantly and finds the next hour of silence to be the most peaceful she’s had in quite some time.

 

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t leave this time. She stays for hours, mostly just sitting quietly with Emma and keeping her company. Emma expects her to disappear when she parks in front of Archie’s office but she doesn’t. She Instead follows Emma through the modern high rise building full of doctors offices and sits next to her in Archie’s empty waiting area, then proceeds to follow her and Archie into his office and sits daintily on the couch, right next to Emma.

 

She wonders if Archie can see the imprint of her weight on the cushions. Does he smell her apple scented aroma? Does he feel her large, expressive brown eyes boring into him? She wants to ask but he seems so concerned already and she doesn’t want to throw gasoline on this dumpster fire.

 

Archie slips his glasses off and wipes the lens on the hem of his sweater. He looks troubled, like he doesn’t know what to say or where to begin, and Emma feels Regina scoot closer to her. Regina’s tan hand suddenly moves across Emma’s thighs to grip the hip furthest from her and her body tilts inward, like she’s trying to shield Emma from the therapist. It’s odd but for some reason it makes her heart beat just a little bit faster.

 

Regina can touch her, she’s warm, she’s real to Emma.

 

Archie slips his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and sits across from her on his armchair. His notepad is balanced on the armrest but he makes no moves to lift it. “So, start at the beginning. When did you start seeing this woman?”

 

She tells him the whole story, from the moment in the infirmary to now, only leaving out certain details, like the loan shark and the chance of her certain death. Still, he seems concerned about her safety when she tries to casually mention that she’s being followed by some guys that want reimbursement. He’s far from stupid and probably knows the kind of trouble she’s found herself in.

 

“So you believe she appears during high stress situations?” He asks.

 

She feels the hand on her hip squeeze but can’t look over at the brunette without those pesky conflicting feelings bubbling up.

 

Instead, she keeps her gaze on Archie and replies, “She’s been there when I needed her, I think. You know that feeling when something is happening and all you want to do is call your family for help?” His lips quirk sadly in understanding and she blinks rapidly. “That’s when she shows up. It’s...” She looks over at the brunette and nearly drowns in the kindness she finds in brown eyes. “It’s nice to have someone, even if she’s not—even if she might not be real.”

 

Regina’s breath tickles her neck when she looks back at Archie, his expression is curious as he stares at the spot where Regina is sitting.

 

“Is she here?” His gaze flickers back and forth from where Regina is perched to Emma.

 

Emma sees Regina in her peripheral looking solemn and her heart slows down from the erratic rhythm she’d been stuck in since Regina’s hand skimmed over her thighs and hips. Emma moves her left hand from where it had been rubbing against her jeans to slide across the small of Regina’s back.

 

“Yeah, she’s here. Right by my side.”

 

Regina’s lips quirk upward.


	2. Chapter 2

Archie schedules weekly sessions at his office and Emma begrudgingly agrees to show up. He ended their first session with a list of possible topics to talk about and said he wanted her to mull them over. He wrote them down on his notepad and handed them to her before she left but she hasn’t given them much thought. Maybe because she’s starting to see Regina as less of a problem and more of a comfort. 

 

Regina starts showing up more often and Emma thinks it’s maybe because she feels like her presence is welcome now. Or because Emma’s been even more stressed since talking to Archie and... you know, Regina might be a hallucination so she can’t feel welcome, she supposes. 

 

Archie advised her to not think of Regina as a real person with feelings, to not see her as a friend, but Emma has been struggling with that. Over the course of the two weeks she’d been seeing her consistently, they’ve gotten to know one another. She knows Regina secretly likes chocolate even if she claims to be a health nut to stay fit. She remembers Regina telling her how she got that little scar above her lip, remembers Regina vividly recounting the story of her brutal mother back handing her and snagging her skin on her ring and leaving the mark for all to see. She feels too unique and multilayered to be a hallucination, which leads Emma to call paranormal groups and ask them about their experiences with full bodied apparitions. None of their tales resembled the situation with Regina but, for some reason, the idea has stuck in her mind. She starts to think of Regina as a ghost, that maybe she abilities like those mediums on television. 

 

It’s the more sensible option for her. She always wanted to be special as a kid and this would be quite the ability. Plus, those mediums make millions in show business and they’re never locked up in a padded room.

 

But Regina isn’t her biggest concern at the moment, because Emma comes up empty in her search for Falso. At least until she runs into her former foster brother, August, who peddled drugs for the king pin after his own stint in lock up. 

 

“He once mentioned that he had a cabin in south Jersey,” He tells her between the library stacks one night. “It’s not under his name or anything, can’t be traced back to him, but a bunch of us knew about it. But, uh, I’d stock up on fire power, Em.” 

 

She spends days buying several guns from local pawn shops and hides a few around her car. She stuffs one in the glove compartment, another in the small hidden compartment in the trunk, and tucks the third in the cubby on the drivers side door. The final one is tucked into the back of her skinny jeans, without the clip of course, which is stuffed into her leather jacket pocket. 

 

The goons have seemingly cooled off for now, at least it seems so. They could be switching tactics and keeping an eye on her until she’s vulnerable, so she stays vigilant while she prepares for her drive to  Jersey. 

 

She’s enjoying the silence as she speeds down the New Jersey turnpike. It’s nearly midnight by the time she reaches the lower half of the state but she’s hoping to surveil the cabin August gave her the address to before she makes any plans and after sunset is the best time to case a place since occupants are usually asleep. 

 

Thankfully, she’s gotten used to the prickly feeling on the back of her neck popping up out of nowhere because getting startled going over seventy miles per hour spelled disaster. 

 

“Hey there, demon lady.” She jokes. When she darts her eyes to the rear view mirror, she’s a bit surprised to see the brunette looking solemn. Stupidly, she asks her, “You okay?” 

 

The brunette bites on her lower lip and nods unconvincingly. “It’s just been a difficult day, that’s all.”

 

Emma purses her lips and wonders why she cares so much for this woman she barely knows. “Oh, yeah? What was so bad about it?”

 

Regina sighs before bursting into a dust cloud and reappearing in the passenger seat. She’s not sure why Regina wouldn’t just start by appearing there in the first place considering that’s where she always ends up. Regina shakes her head. “Nothing you should concern yourself with, dear.” 

 

So that’s how her ghost wants to play it? She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

 

Regina settles into the seat and lays her head back against the headrest as her eyes slip closed. Emma periodically looks over to take in every detail and she has to hand it to her brain. She‘s managed to snag the attention of the sexiest apparition out there, which makes this whole thing a bit easier to swallow.

 

She forces herself to stop looking, to stop lusting over someone that isn’t alive, and tries to stay focused on the road, but right as she starts to get used to the silence, Regina’s timid voice echoes through the car. “You said dying seems appealing when one's life is miserable and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that, especially today.” 

 

 _Oh_. Emma’s heart drops to her feet and her hands squeeze the leather steering wheel until her knuckles are white. _So that’s what this is about._

 

“Look, I’m not going to do anything, alright?“ 

 

“What?” Regina sounds utterly confused and Emma can’t bare to look over. “I’m not giving you a pep talk, Emma. I witnessed someone take their own life today.”

 

“Oh.” Emma shakes her head and winces.

 

Regina scrunches her eyebrows and frowns at her at first, but then turns away, looking out the window at the passing farmland. “It never gets easier to witness.” 

 

“You’ve... you’ve seen  _ that _ a lot?” Emma frowns. She changes lanes as she waits for a response.

 

“It never gets easier.” Regina whispers into the silent space. “To see death as a mercy... one must be so desperate, drowning in misery.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma says, her hand reaching out to squeeze Regina’s bicep. “I wish you didn’t see that—Well, I wish people never reached that point, actually. I know what it’s like to feel like there’s no other way out but I made it through somehow.”

 

Regina whips her head around and stares at Emma with a certain intensity that makes her squirm in her seat. “You’re the strongest human being I’ve ever met, Miss Swan.” A small teasing smile pulls at Regina’s lips, “It’s what keeps me coming back, even at the sake of my sanity.” 

 

Emma wants to snarl but somehow ends up pouting. “You’re an asshole, demon lady.” The insult doesn’t get the reaction she‘s hoping for. Regina’s chest puffs out and that smile brightens even more, and Emma furrows her brow. “That was an insult, you know that, right? I was insulting you.” 

 

“You’re quite something, Miss Swan.” Regina faces the front windshield, her smirk firmly in place, and smooths her palms on her leggings.

 

“So I’ve heard...” Emma’s mouth slants downward in thought. “Never positively though.”

 

Regina snorts. “Presumptuous to think I meant it positively.” 

 

“Well, yeah...“ Emma tenses, disgruntled. 

 

“Hmm,” Regina shakes her head with a small smirk, “I suppose I can admit you’re special, dear.”

 

Emma squints at her, “I don’t believe you. You’d lie to me.” 

 

Regina’s melodic laugh fills the car and Emma somehow feels lighter than she has in years. She refuses to analyze the reason. Thankfully the GPS speaks up and announces her exit and they become more focused on the task at hand than the ongoing mystery surrounding Regina’s recurring appearances in her life. 

 

It only takes a few minutes after exiting the highway for them to reach woodland and it’s so dark that Emma’s high beam headlights only light up about twenty feet in front of them. The rest is pitch black. Regina seems antsy now and keeps squirming in the passenger seat, but Emma’s on the verge of a full blown panic attack. 

 

Once the GPS lets her know that they’re half a mile from the cabin, Emma turns down her headlights and slows down, hoping to not draw the attention of someone in the cabin if they happen to be awake.  

 

“Be careful, Miss Swan.” Regina’s voice is quiet but stern, like she needs Emma to understand something. “I... I have a bad feeling about this.” 

 

Emma doesn’t know what to do with that sentiment so she shoves it to the back of her mind and tries to keep a level head as she navigates down a dirt path that’s surrounded by dense forest. She nearly nicks some trees as she goes but is traveling under ten miles per hour and manages to dodge each in time. It’s so dark that she can barely see twenty feet in front of the Bug, especially with her headlights on their dimmest setting. 

 

“There,” Regina says, her finger outstretched toward the clearing manifesting before them. A large cabin slowly comes into view and Emma hurries to switch off her headlights and dunk them into absolute darkness. Then, “Someone is inside.” 

 

Emma looks over at the brunette and barely makes out which direction Regina’s looking but she doesn’t need much direction in the end. A small window on the left side of the cabin is illuminated with a flashing bright light. Someone is watching television. 

 

“I’m going to check out the perimeter. Sit tight.” Emma gives her a pointed look and Regina shoots back one of concern. She seems worried and unsettled, and it makes Emma feel just as much unease. 

 

“Emma, maybe we should just go and come back tomorrow night—“

 

“If he’s here, I can’t pass this up. Just stay here, alright?” Regina looks ready to rebuke but Emma cuts her off by softly closing the drivers side door. She smiles sheepishly at the disgruntled glare Regina sends her through the glass and turns toward the cabin to creep closer. 

 

The structure is huge, like something out of a movie, and Emma has to walk a good forty feet to reach the window with the flickering light. Cautiously, she peaks her head up and peers over the window sill to see an empty living room with the channel playing a rerun of Cops. She waits a few seconds but doesn’t hear anything—not a footstep or a voice or anything except for the police sirens playing quietly on the television. 

 

Until she hears a gun cocking right next to her ear. 

 

“Well, look what we have here boys.” A menacing voice says, amused, and it’s punctuated by several malicious chuckles. “Just like Pinocchio promised us. That little thief really delivered, huh?” 

 

A burly hand burrows into her hair and throws her back roughly, pulling a cry from her lips. She goes tumbling to the dirt and rolls a few times before hitting a large rock. She hisses as it digs into her skin and cuts through her tank top and slices the curve of her breast. 

 

“Oh, she’s a pretty one, boys. Who wants the first turn, huh?”

 

Something in Emma snaps. She whips her gun out of her boot and points it right between the pack leaders eyes, which spurs the rest of the men to point their own weapons at her. The leader laughs at her, his dark eyes gleaming in the dark, and a flash of white hot anger floods her veins. 

 

Her finger presses against the trigger as her eyes flicker at the menacing faces of at least seven men surrounding her. 

 

Then, out of nowhere, she hears Regina roar “Get away from her!”

 

“What was that?!” A scrawny man with covered in tattoos asks, his voice high pitched and full of terror. The men startled at the loud growl and Emma’s eyes widen at the realization.  _ Did they just hear Regina?  _ Before she can even wrap her mind around that, her gun is jerked out of her hand and stays hovering in the air in front of her. 

 

“What the fuck?!” The pack leader exclaims as they all start to look around, peering into the woods around them. 

 

A second later, Emma’s body is lifted and thrown almost fifty feet away, behind the Bug and away from immediate danger. Just as she’s landing with a groan, she hears a dozen, ear splitting pops followed by screams and pained yells, and then there’s blood spraying onto the outer cabin walls, and Emma gasps when her car’s headlights flash on and allow her to see the shadow of a man being shot by her floating gun. 

 

She scrambles onto her ass and starts thrusting her legs against the dirt, trying to get further away from whatever is happening, but she can’t drown out the sounds, the screams and pleas, and she can’t pretend there isn’t a coppery scent in the air now. One more shot bursts then there’s just a deafening silence. 

 

Emma’s heart is racing, pulsing against her rib cage, and her lungs are seizing because, holy shit, she almost  _ died _ . She stares at the blood on the wood of the cabin and sucks in a breath. Those men  _ did _ die. 

 

_ “Oh my god,”  _ Emma cries out and it Sounds piercing in the tense quiet of the woods. Until quick footsteps accompany her words, that is. As the steps get closer and closer, Emma whines in her throat and tries to scoot away, to get some distance between her and the massacre that must be lying on the other side of her car. 

 

The steps slow down, showing hesitance, then, before Emma can even call out, the Bug’s headlights dim, encasing in her darkness. 

 

The last thing she sees before it all goes black is a burst of white smoke. Regina is gone.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks pass. Two weeks since she was thrown across a clearing in a forest while a bunch of mafia men got mowed down by her floating gun. Two weeks since she stood up on shaking legs, turned on her car and the headlights to see no evidence of the scene she witnessed through shadows. There had been no bodies, the blood was gone, and the woman who saved her had vanished. 

 

Two weeks of feeling absolutely insane. Two weeks without Regina.

 

It was unbearable, not because she has too many questions and needs answers to them all but because she misses her. She misses having someone by her side, misses their conversations, misses Regina so much it’s almost embarrassing. This is why she never allowed anyone to get close to her. They always leave. 

 

She tries not to think about her as she smashes her fist into Augusts’ nose for betraying her and comes away with scrapes and bruises after he fights back. She tries not to worry when Regina doesn’t show up during the fight to protect her. She tries, tries, tries. And she fails, because Regina means something to her. Maybe it doesn’t make sense and maybe it’s a bad idea to get attached to someone that may not be real, but Regina became a bright spot. 

 

But as she’s reclining in her drivers seat, she can’t help but wish that she wasn’t so lonely. Archie is wonderful, trustworthy, and a true friend, but it’s not the same rapport and comfort she found in the brunette woman. Perhaps she got too spoiled, too used to having someone around, and that’s on her. 

 

* * *

 

“You alright?” 

 

Emma looks up from the library computer screen and sees the night shift librarian watching her from the corner of her eye as she presses several buttons on the touch pad of the fax machine. Emma tries to smile. “I’m alright, ma’am.”

 

The young brunette laughs breathlessly at the title and shakes her head. “I’m Belle French, the head librarian here. Don’t need to  _ ma’am _ me, makes me feel old.” Belle drops the stack of plain white paper onto the machine and makes her way over to Emma, who scrambles to minimize the windows with her paranormal research. Belle’s eyebrows shoot up at her haste. “Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve gotten used to seeing you and there’s something different about your demeanor.”

 

Emma stares at the tab on the bottom bar of the computer where her research on how to conduct a seance has been half-read. Because she wanted to bring her ghost back.  _ God _ . 

 

“I recently lost someone,” is all Emma says as an explanation but it’s enough. The librarian’s eyes become sad and empathetic, and Emma lets herself be comforted by the fact that someone cares. Archie smiled wide and told her how fantastic it was that she wasn’t seeing Regina anymore. It made Emma’s hands ball into a fist around one of his couch cushions. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Belle bites her lip, “And here I am pestering you.”

 

“No,” Emma waves her hand. “It’s nice to talk about it, actually.” 

 

Belle pulls out the wooden chair from the next computer module and daintily takes a seat. “I’m all ears if you need one.” 

 

Emma shifts in her seat uncomfortably. Telling this sweet librarian the whole story would only complicate things and turn that empathy into concern or, worse, fear. 

 

“I met this woman. She was beautiful and smart and snarky, and I liked her so much it was embarrassing actually, even if our relationship got off on the wrong foot.” Emma smirks as she remembers waking up in the prison infirmary and seeing Regina’s face for the first time, hovering over her with light behind her, making her look heaven sent. Maybe she was. “But, uh, we had a... disagreement and I haven’t seen her since. And I...”

 

When she trails off with a pained shrug, Belle sighs softly. “Maybe she simply needed space?”

 

“Maybe.” Emma shrugs again, feeling like a petulant teenager. “But how can we move forward if she won’t talk to me?” 

 

It’s Belle’s turn to shrug, though hers is more whimsical. “Love can make people illogical, I suppose.”

 

Emma chokes on air. “Love? I haven’t really known her long.” 

 

Belle smirks, “Of course, my mistake.” 

 

Emma narrows her eyes at the young brunette and grunts. She’s attracted to Regina, of course, and, yes, she enjoys her company and misses her when she’s gone and— _ oh god.  _

 

“I’m screwed,” She whispers in awe, making Belle chuckle knowingly. 

 

She leaves the library with more questions than answers.

 

* * *

 

When Archie finds out she’s been living in her car since prison, two things happen. First, he rants about the failures of the system and how rehabilitation and reintegration aren’t being utilized and implemented for about twenty minutes. Then, he offers her his pull out couch and practically begs her to accept his offer. And who is she to turn down free housing? 

 

His apartment is luxurious, large and modern, and Emma feels completely out of place, like she’s clashing with the decor, but Archie makes her feel welcome so she sticks around. 

 

She’s back at square one in her search for Falso though. August is a traitorous bastard that can’t be trusted and he’s her only connection to the drug peddler. The loan shark lackeys have all but disappeared since she moved in with Archie. They probably knew they’d stick out like sore thumbs in the swanky neighborhood. That doesn’t stop them from following her through the subway tunnels and tailing her car. Still, at least they’re not actively trying to murder her at the moment, so she’ll take that as a win. 

 

Archie steps through the apartment door near dinner time one night and smiles at her as he shrugs off his coat, “Hello, Emma. How was your day?”

 

She sighs under her breath, because she always gives the same vague answer of “ _ it was alright” _ and he always proceeds to give her a rundown of his day. The routine is killing her. She spends all day at the apartment since it’s the only place she currently feels safe and her only company arrives when it starts getting dark and he only stays away long enough to digest his dinner. Without  _ her _ , it’s been miserable. 

 

She has every intention of giving her standard answer but her talk with Belle has kick started something in her and instead she blurts, “I miss her. I miss my... whatever she was.” 

 

Archie pauses his movements for a moment then slowly finishes, tossing his keys into the clear glass bowl on a stand by the door as he silently mulls over her words. He walks over, brows scrunched, and replies, “I suppose that’s to be expected.” Which isn’t what she thought he’d say, and it must show on her face because a smile blooms on his lips and he adds, “Coping mechanisms become sources of comfort and familiarity. It would only make sense for you to miss having that stable presence around.” 

 

For some reason, it irks her that he stills talks about Regina like she’s hallucination, even though it’s entirely plausible she actually is just that. Maybe she just doesn’t want to accept the idea that Regina never truly walked this earth, that she never took a breath or smiled at someone and rained warmth on them, that no one ever loved Regina the way she deserved.

 

A hallucination would only exist in her mind and that was unacceptable. 

 

But she doesn’t want to fight him on this again. They’ve already had rigorous discussions about Regina, why she may have appeared, and why Emma’s so attached to her, and it’s always framed as a mental health issue, which bothers her. She feels fine. She doesn’t want help getting rid of her. She just needed someone to speak to and be able to vent about her concerns. 

 

Instead of saying something, she swallows her frustration and just nods before pointing toward the kitchen counter. “I made us some grilled cheese. It’s all I could make, sorry.” 

 

* * *

 

When she’s just on the cusp of sleep, she feels that tell-tale tingle on the nape of her neck then hears a timid calling of her name. Emma sniffs, thinking she misheard, that her sleep-addled brain was making her hear things. But then there’s a hand on her cheek, soft and gentle as it caresses the jagged cut across it, and the scent of sweet apples tickles her nose.

 

Her eyes jolt open, which nearly scares Regina off of her perch on the coffee table but Emma’s quick reflexes have her hands wrapped around Regina’s waist before she can move. She sighs, mostly relieved but partly aggravated, “You came back.”

 

Regina leans forward, bringing them into a tentative embrace, but Emma breaks through any awkwardness by wrapping her arms fully around the other woman and squeezing until Regina huffs. Emma presses her lips to Regina’s ear and repeats, “You came back.”

 

“I came back.” Regina confirms in a way that makes Emma think she’s just as surprised to be here as Emma is to see her here. Regina pulls back from the embrace but her arms stay around her to pet the unruly blonde curls hanging loosely down Emma’s back. “I... I couldn’t stay away. I tried but I should’ve known...” 

 

“Why?” Emma whispers, cognizant of Archie sleeping in the next room. “Why would you leave? I don’t... I have so many questions.” 

 

Emma refuses to sound needy. She won’t tell her she missed her and she won’t make it obvious just how lonely she’s been, but apparently she doesn’t have to say a word because Regina’s expression becomes softer and she smiles timidly before it sours. 

 

“I killed those men and I... I heard you cry out. I frightened you.” Regina shakes her head and lays her hand against her abdomen. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me again. The last time I frightened you...”

 

Emma remembers that day in the prison parking lot clearly, remembers the devastation on Regina’s face when she realized Emma was concerned for her own safety, and she needs to clarify, to make sure there isn’t a misunderstanding.

 

She sits up fully and takes Regina’s warm hands in her own and says with so much conviction, “You saved my life. Those men... they were going to—you saved me.” Emma swallows roughly, “I was just afraid of the situation, Regina. Not you. Not anymore.” 

 

Regina looks away but her hands squeeze Emma’s. Regina stares at her with glassy eyes in a way that makes Emma shift under its intensity. Her bottom lip quivers when she repeats, “I couldn’t stay away.” 

 

Emma can’t help but feel that statement holds more weight than she can even begin to understand. But just seeing the brunette is enough to make her heart slow down, to calm her down, because  _ she came back.  _ Whether it be social workers, or foster parents, or her own parents, everyone always left and they hardly ever came back, but here Regina was. She was unable to stay away. First time for everything. 

 

Regina moves over to sit next to her on the large, plush couch and Emma tugs her closer until their thighs are brushing. Regina smiles at her but it quickly falls when her gaze lands on that nasty cut on her cheek again. She lifts a tan hand and runs her fingers gently around the bruise, never pressing down. “What did you do?” 

 

Emma scoffs, “Excuse you? I didn’t  _ do _ anything.” Regina’s brow raises skeptically. “ _ Okay _ . I may have... punched August.” 

 

Regina hums, a smirk on her lips. “I‘d say he earned that.” Her fingers roam back toward Emma’s hair and tuck a thick strand behind her ear. Once the blonde curl is safely tucked away, those lithe fingers move back over the cut and bruise until Emma feels a warmth across her cheek that slowly fades out the residual pain. She gasps and lifts her own hand to prod her cheek and goes wide-eyed when she comes across healthy, undamaged skin. Regina’s smile grows until her lips can’t stretch any further, her pearly white teeth peeking from between pink lips. “There...” She cups Emma’s cheek, “Perfect.” 

 

Emma’s eyes dart to those smiling lips and she feels her torso leaning forward, closer and closer as Regina begins to lean in as well. Their lips are slowly inching toward one other, as if by pure magnetism. She can feel Regina’s heaving breaths against her mouth and— _ click _ . Emma jumps back then up as she watches a disheveled and yawning Archie waddle out of his bedroom and toward the bathroom. 

 

He covers his mouth and greets her through a throaty yawn, “Emma, you still up?”

 

She would laugh at how informal grogginess makes him if he hadn’t just interrupted something vitally important... that might also be a bit insane. Kissing your ghost or hallucination or  _ whatever _ ? She was losing her goddamn mind. 

 

“Uh, yeah, couldn’t sleep,” She mumbles. He nods then locks himself in the bathroom, disappearing from sight and leaving Emma and Regina in an awkward silence. She tries to chuckle, though it comes out way too breathy to be casual, “Like Fate intervening, huh?”

 

Regina props her chin on her fist and watches as Emma nervously rubs at the back of her neck. Confidently, she states, “Screw Fate.” 

 

The haughty expression on her face and the stern tone combined with the utterly ineloquent phrasing has Emma chuckling deeply from her gut. The tension has ceased. Regina pats the couch cushion Emma vacated and the blonde accepts the silent request. As she sits, she says, “I mean, when has Fate ever been good to us, right?”

 

Regina chuckles darkly. “Fate can be quite cruel. That’s why I stopped playing by her rules. I make my own destiny, my own decisions, and I usually know what I want.” The brunette stares at her meaningfully and Emma blushes like an idiot school girl. 

 

Every time she’s spoken to Regina, she’s come across as snarky yet severely melancholy and timid. This confidence and boldness is out of left field but it’s sexy and has Emma squeezing her thighs together for some relief. But her shy reaction to Regina’s forwardness brings the flirtation to a screeching halt. The brunette is much more muted now, quiet, but stares at her like Emma hung the moon. It’s more than enough.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Regina smirks, “I don’t know, can you?”

 

Emma groans dramatically. “God, I just got flashbacks to Sister Blue at the orphanage. Don’t do that!” 

 

Regina chuckles smugly and Emma can’t help but smile in response. Regina taps her forearm. “Come on, what did you want to ask?”

 

Emma’s mouth opens but immediately snaps shut when the bathroom door clicks open. Archie sways toward his bedroom but stares at her curiously. He points at her and asks, “Were you laughing?” 

 

Emma pops her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shakes her head. “Nope.”

 

Archie scrunches his brows and rubs at her forehead but accepts the lie with a nod and walks back to his bedroom, closing the door with a quiet _snick_. Regina’s breathless laugh gets her chuckling under her breath. The brunette teases, “He’s going to think he’s hearing things.”

 

“Ha, maybe he’ll start thinking insanity is contagious.” Emma mentions self-deprecatingly and it immediately feels wrong, like the words don’t fit in her mouth. Because she isn’t crazy. She can’t be. Regina has to be real. Which brings her back to her question. “So, um... I’ve been thinking and racking my brain—“

 

“How difficult for you.”

 

“ _ Shut up. _ ” Emma shoves Regina’s shoulder and gives it a light smack for good measure. Her hand stays on her shoulder, her fingers twisting in the black material of her shirt. “I want to know what you are.” 

 

Regina’s breathing hitches. Emma feels her chest lurch under her fingers. “Emma... I can’t...”

 

“Am I crazy?” Emma blurts, her mouth twisting downward.

 

Regina covers Emma’s hand with her own and whispers, “Of course not.” She sighs, “I wish things were different. I wish—I want so many things with you, Emma, and I wish they were all possible.”

 

“We can make it work, whatever you want,” Emma pleads. “It might be unconventional—“

 

Regina laughs somberly, “Unconventional? Emma, I’m... You’re the only one that sees me. Archie thinks you’re mental ill. I’m not  _ real _ to them. _ ” _

 

“I don’t care about  _ them _ .” 

 

“Of course you do! You want to find Tallahassee, don’t you?” 

 

When those words—words uttered years ago by her traitorous former lover—come from Regina’s mouth, Emma’s entire body tenses. Her voice gets hard. “What the hell did you just say?” Regina wisely stays silent and her eyes are looking off to the side, away from the confused blonde. “How the hell did you know about that?” Regina’s eyes slip shut. Emma blinks at her and whispers, stunned, “Who are you?”

 

“I’m... I’m someone that can’t stay away but can’t give you everything you need, and I don’t know what to do, Emma. Tell me what to do.” 

 

Emma thinks of the last few years. She thinks of the moments with and without Regina. She reminisces on the conversations they’ve had, on the feelings Emma was hit with the first time they met, on the librarians sly smile as she mentioned that love makes people illogical.

 

In the end, none of it matters, because she knows what she wants. Fate be damned.

 

“Stay.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“Miss Swan, if you insist on forcing me to watch this garbage, the least you could do is not prolong my misery!”

 

Emma chuckles but does hurry to dump the popcorn into a bowl as fast as she can. She convinced Regina to watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarves since Archie‘s at work and they have some privacy. Regina already seemed so hesitant to watch, so she wasn’t about to push her luck by keeping the brunette waiting.

 

“It’s a classic, Regina!” Emma teases from the kitchen, “Don’t besmirch it’s name!” She hears Regina grumble something under her breath and just smirks as she swipes the bowl of popcorn off the counter and saunters back into the living room area, where Regina is cuddled into the corner of the chaise lounge, glaring at the cartoon fairytale princess smiling on the menu screen. She grins. “You don’t have to look so excited there, your highness.”

 

Regina sniffs haughtily. “I’m sorry if I can’t manage some enthusiasm over a princess that lives with seven men and bites into apples given to her by random old hags. Even children know not to take food from a stranger. This frivolous clod is an abhorrent role model.”

 

Emma plops down next to her, chuckling, “Tell me how you really feel.”

 

Regina snatches the remote from the coffee table and presses play gruffly. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

Truthfully, Emma hates this movie but when Regina practically growled at the dvd, she knew she had to see her reaction to the full-fledged film. She doesn’t disappoint. Regina glares at the screen, rolls her eyes, makes snide remarks, but, ultimately, her foot tapping to the rhythm of some of the songs makes Emma bite her lip to keep from laughing.

 

Staring at Regina’s pouting lips is making Emma show aggressive restrain, because every fiber of her being wants to lunge forward and suck on that plump bottom lip. It’s almost painful not to, but Regina hasn’t said anything about their almost kiss and Emma knows Regina feels some type of way about the fact the no one else can see her and believes that to be enough reason not to pursue anything. Still, Emma’s never felt this way for anyone, not even Neal. _That bastard_.

 

Yet she stays quiet and doesn’t ask but continues to flirt and tease and wish for things to be different, as if her wishes were ever granted. She takes what she can get. She lets those bright smiles warm her, lets the teasing and the flirtations make her blush, and lets Regina lay her head on her shoulder as Snow White bites down on a cursed apple.

 

As she peers down at Regina’s tranquil expression, she also wishes she could see Regina’s story just as easily as she can Snow White’s. She wants to know anything and everything, but the brunette is so secretive and keeps personal information out of reach. The only tidbit she knows is how horrible Regina’s mother was. She wants to ask her so many thing but would—

 

“You’re thinking so loudly I can barely hear Snow White and Prince Charming’s lip smacking.”

 

Emma jolts and finds Regina’s chin tilted upward and brown eyes watching her carefully. “Wha—No, I’m watching. I just zoned out for a second, that’s all.”

 

Regina pulls away to prop her head up on the back of the couch and says, “What’re you thinking about?”

 

Emma huffs, pretending to be annoyed by the badgering even though it’s mostly anxiety thrumming through her body. “Sometimes I feel like you know a lot—everything apparently—about me and I know next to nothing about you. I just want to put it out there that I’m all ears for whatever you’re willing to share, you know?”

 

Regina stays quiet, contemplative perhaps, then the left side of her lips quirk up as she nods hesitantly. “I can do that.”

 

Emma’s eyes widen. “You can?”

 

“What do you wish to know?” Regina asks tentatively.

 

“Everything,” Emma manages to rasp, sounding so desperate and eager that she’d be embarrassed if Regina didn’t look flattered. “But lets start with... what’s your favorite color?”

 

Regina’s chest deflates in relief as she chuckles. “Blue.” She pauses and purses her lips then she clarifies, “A light shade of it.“

 

Emma can’t remember seeing Regina wear anything that color, especially considering her clothing was very stylized and hardly wavered. Regina was constantly in tight black leggings with knee-high black boots encasing her tight calves and a black jacket or tunic covering her torso modestly. At times, Emma wonders if Regina died wearing something similar and she’s stuck wearing them for an eternity as she roams earth in search of peace or something (she didn’t really remember what the paranormal investigator prattled on about).

 

“Favorite family member?”

 

This question comes out softly, with extreme hesitance, but Regina beams the moment she understands what she’s being asked.

 

“My father,” slips from Regina’s lips so reverently that Emma smiles. “He was a good man, gave me every ounce of affection he could and taught me how to ride horses. I... I miss him constantly.”

 

“Time to get to the hard questions,” Emma winks. “Pineapple on pizza?”

 

At this, Regina grimaces and shifts on the couch, bringing her body more firmly against the blonde’s. “I’ve never had pizza,” she finally admits. When Emma simply gapes at her, she huffs, “Pizza wasn’t a commodity when I was alive. And now... well, I’m sure you’ve noticed I don’t eat.”

 

 _When I was alive._ The sentence makes Emma’s heart constrict in her chest. It’s the answers she’s needed to hear for a while now. Of course, nothing is truly confirmed. Regina could very well be a creative and manipulative hallucination still but her gut has this hunch that she isn’t, that she once lived and died and she’s back somehow or someway. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but it’s all she has. 

 

“How...” Emma pauses, thinks over the question she wants to truly ask, and quickly recants. Instead, she uses the opportunity to pry about a more superficial subject she’s much too curious about. “Have you ever been in love?”

 

Regina’s eyes glaze over, like she’s stuck in a memory, as she says, “Once. He was our stable boy. My mother... she didn’t approve and put an end to our relationship.”

 

The more Emma hears about Regina’s mother, the more worried she becomes over what Regina isn’t saying. To her, she can sense the toxicity that existed between mother and daughter just from two stories she’s heard. But she doesn’t want to talk about that because seeing Regina look so depressed and lost makes her lungs seize.

 

“Tell me about him?” She asks, making sure the lilt in her voice shows it’s not a command.

 

Regina smiles nostalgically, even if it’s tainted by sadness, and starts, “He was compassionate, so wonderful with the horses, and he... he loved me as much as I loved him. What he and I had was short lived but it was special. It—He, unequivocally, changed my life.”

 

Emma’s heart drops suddenly but she tries to smile regardless of the deep pit of despair growing in her chest. She could never compare to this man, could never presume to fill his shoes, and the strange hope she had built up in her mind for their relationship dwindles. Regina’s too engrossed in memories to notice, luckily.

 

And right as Regina blinks out of them, the credits begin to roll and Emma jumps on the opportunity for some space. She heaves the popcorn bowl into her arms and stands abruptly, nearing knocking Regina sideways in her haste. The brunette furrows her brows and frowns at her and Emma looks away, staring at her fingers curving over the edge of the bowl.

 

“Emma?” Regina’s fingers twitch on the couch but stay on the cushion, evidently successfully fighting her urge to reach out, probably because she can sense Emma’s agitation and knows physicality is the exact opposite of what she needs.

 

“I just realized that I’m supposed to go see my old cell mate. She was locked up for selling drugs for Falso so maybe she’ll have some information to share.” She says asnonchalant as she can manage.

 

It’s not technically a lie. She did speak to Lily, her former cell mate who was really locked up because she took the fall for her ex-boyfriend-slash-king-pin—which is something they bonded over—but they hadn’t set a date or time to speak. Lily found work at a local diner as a waitress and told Emma to drop in whenever so they could talk in the kitchen, out of sight.

 

But it doesn’t get the desired result. Regina springs up from the couch with a pleased smile and moves to follow her. Regina plans to go with her to meet Lily, which isn’t exactly what she had in mind when she decided to run away from this entire situation. She almost throws a hand up and tells her she doesn’t want company but she can’t stomach hurting the brunette even if she’s feeling like she needs to take flight or get her heart broken.

 

So she doesn’t say anything, continues to say nothing as they drive over to the small diner by the library Emma frequents, and Regina clearly notices her silence and continuously sends her searching glances in hopes it’ll spur Emma into talking. It doesn’t. She’s too lost in her own thoughts and anxiety to poke her head above water and see the situation with clarity.

 

Granny’s Diner is cozy, warm, and smells distinctly of grease, and Emma immediately sighs at the familiar surroundings. Ruby and Granny Lucas have been proprietors of the restaurant since before Emma ended up in prison and they always took care of Emma during her runaway years by giving her free meals or even a place to stay. Their generosity extended to Lily. When Emma called them and told them about her former cell mate and explained her struggles finding employment, Granny hired her on the spot.

 

The young brunette fits in well with Ruby and Granny. She works hard, keeps her head down, and has been avoiding all of her old friends and habits in hopes of staying clean. She’s worked extremely hard to keep her life on the straight and narrow, so it’s no surprise Emma’s presence, even though it‘s expected, leaves her rattled.

 

Emma bites her lip as Lily trips over her own feet as she scrambles to greet Emma at the counter. She drops her empty coffee pot back into the machine and flicks it on as she quickly scans the room. Once she’s satisfied no one sketchy is watching their interaction, Lily finally turns to face her and nods, her mouth turned downward and her hands stuffed into the pockets of her red apron.

 

“Hey, come on back.” She gestures to the swinging door separating the kitchen from the dining area. She doesn’t even wait to see what Emma says, which makes Regina quietly snort in Emma’s ear. She tries not to shiver. She fails. _Again_.

 

The kitchen is bustling with Granny at the helm. As the older woman expedites, the cooks shout back the orders and start fulfilling. Widow Lucas gives them a weary look, like she knows they’re up to no good, but she’s quickly distracted by her granddaughter, who rushes in to submit another ticket.

 

“You can’t tell anyone that I talked,” is the first thing Lily says and Emma almost rolls her eyes. Sure, she’s an idiot but she knows that snitching gets you stitches... or straight up death.

 

“Come on, you know me better than that, Lily.” Emma gives her a meaningful look and Lily blushes, a smirk firmly plastered on her lips. She feels Regina stiffen against her side and takes some perverse joy in possibly making her jealous. She takes a step closer to Lily and whispers, “You know where I can find him?”

 

The young brunette frowns but nods, looking extremely conflicted, which Emma can understand. They grew up in foster care and learned that information was their bargaining tool, their golden ticket. Living on the street and sleeping in cars and hustling for every good thing they could scavenge taught them to be careful of who they trust and spill information to. Emma’s honored that Lily even trusted her enough to meet, especially since Falso is very much aware Emma’s looking for him. August’s little stunt proved that much.

 

“Usually he’d lay low at his cabin in Jersey but August tipped him off, so he must’ve ran somewhere else. He wouldn’t go too far since his grandma is in the retirement home on Grand Avenue in the Bronx and she’s the only person he actually cares about.” Lily sighs then pulls out a scrap of paper from her apron and hands it over with a shaky hand.

 

Emma looks down at the scribbled address on the white paper and frowns. “This is right around the corner from here. It’s an abandonedsteel factory.”

 

Lily nods apprehensively. “He used to go there with his friends to snort coke. Once he got into the business, he converted one of the lower floors for production. It’s hard to access and only has one hidden entrance near the back that isn’t marked on blueprints of the place. He used to go there when he was upset, sometimes he’d take me with him to... well, you know...”

 

Emma cringes. Falso has the dirtiest reputation and she can’t help but think Lily deserved better than to be touched by a guy that filthy.Her friend gives her a knowing, slinky exasperated stare and Emma shrugs. She lifts the paper. “Thank you for this,” She says, grateful.

 

“Anytime.” Lily’s eyes roam over her athletic body slowly. “Call me if you ever need anything.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma shoves her shoulders, making her stumble toward the swinging doors leading back to the dining area, with a smirk. Lily never gave up hope that Emma would change her mind and give their relationship another shot but Emma had mixed feelings about their past and never brought up the prospect.

 

She will admit that she tends to give Lily mixed signals because of those mixed feelings. Whenever Emma’s feeling particularly horny, she’ll call Lily and they scratch the itch, but that’s all it is: friends with benefits. She hasn’t called her since Regina started coming around more often, so at least for a few weeks. She doesn’t think about what that means.

 

The drive home is silent and not because of Emma, really. Seeing her friend lifted her spirits, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Regina.

 

“You alright, demon lady?” Emma tries to toss in their light hearted recurring joke but Regina sniffs.

 

“You and the waitress seem to get along well,” Regina replies haughtily with a click of her tongue.

 

“Oh, uh,” Emma bites her lower lip to keep from smiling, “we’re good friends.”

 

“Friends...” Regina drags the word out with a slight sneer. “It seemed like more than that.”

 

And Emma wishes she wasn’t so bitter and petty, but she is and the words come tumbling out before she can stop them. “You had Daniel and I have Lily. Don’t act like I can’t have a past.”

 

Regina chuckles but it lacks any humor or affection and Emma tenses at the darkness in her tone. “Daniel is my past, this harlot seems like your _present_.”

 

Emma scoffs, “You actually love him. What I have with Lily isn’t like that.”

 

“So you have something with her?” Regina asks firmly. Her body is ramrod straight and her tan fingers are curled around the door handle, and Emma suddenly realizes that maybe she’s not the only one that runs.

 

So she thinks about what she’s going to say and tries to swallow her angst. She’s jealous and bitter, but she doesn’t want to push Regina away either. Even if she can’t have what she’d been hoping for, she wants a relationship of some sort with her.

 

“She and I met in foster care. For a while, we were alone on the street, fending for ourselves and for each other. Then she got locked up because of Falso and I got locked up because of Neal. Being screwed over by the men we thought we loved brought us closer together and it became a comfort. That’s all it is.”

 

Regina’s jaw doesn’t unclench but her eyes lose some of that fire. “She could give you everything you need,” She eventually admits, and Emma starts shaking her head before Regina can even finish. “She wants you, that much is clear. You could have her.”

 

Emma can’t suppress an amused, rumbling chuckle, “I could, very easily, but I don’t want her.” Regina finally looks over once Emma swerves into a parking spot in front of Archie’s building and Emma thrusts the car into park before angling her body to the side to face her fully. She wants to reach over and grab her hand but holds off. “I want you.”

 

Regina scoffs. “Perhaps you have lost your mind.”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Emma shrugs. “You could be a hallucination or a ghost or whatever else, but it doesn’t change how I feel and it doesn’t deter me. Cause I know you’re real. You have to be.”

 

“Emma...” The brunette swallows harshly and pinches the bridge of her nose as she slouches in the passenger seat. “You need to live your life. I’m sorry. If Lily is what you want then I shouldn’t have berated you. It’s not my place.”

 

She can’t decide if she wants to reach over and throttle that elegant neck or if she wants to kiss her until their lungs burn. “I already told you what I want. You’ll just have to accept that I make my own decisions and stop trying to tell me I’m wrong for making them.”

 

She’s scolding her slightly yet Regina’s smiling at her from the passenger seat, all traces of jealousy and anger have vanished.

 

“Alright,” is what Regina eventually says after a few terse seconds of silence. She smirks, this time lightly. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

* * *

 

The abandoned factory is rundown beyond belief and severely rat-infested. Emma has to bite on her tongue to keep from squealing when one runs across the toe of her boot. Regina curls her lip and stares at the site with as much disdain as she can muster. She has to give it to Falso. This place is so severely repugnant that most people would turn tail and run on sight, including police officers.

 

Still, she keeps her eyed peeled as they trapeze across factory grounds towards the secret door Lily mentioned. She trusts Lily when she says Falso disclosed this location to only a small few, but she also thought she could trust August and that carelessness almost put her six feet under.

 

“This is hell on earth,” Regina whispers under her breath.

 

“Oh yeah,” Emma snorts. “The city doesn’t jump on the chance to tear these places down so by the time they get around to it, it’s so infested with every creature under the sun that it isn’t safe to knock down. Most of the time, they’re just left alone to keep getting more disgusting.”

 

A cockroach crawls up the wall next to Regina and the brunette grimaces. “Actually, on second thought, this might be worse than hell.”

 

Emma can’t help but think about the homeless men and women that are forced to seek shelter in places like this, where they know cops won’t come to kick them out. It’s entirely likely someone is calling this hellhole home if the tattered sleeping bags are anything to go by. She briefly wonders if they’ve seen Falso but the site is so quiet that she imagines everyone is out and about. 

 

“Emma... be vigilant.” Regina warns, her tone leaving no wiggle room, and Emma glances at her, worrying her bottom lip. Every time Regina warns about a situation, she’s almost been killed. Thankfully, Regina’s always been there to save her.

 

The door Lily mentioned is tucked behind some rusty old machinery and it’s a tight squeeze for Emma to shimmy through the space between it and the concrete wall. Regina just poofs around it, smirking as she appears on the other side. Emma grumbles, “Show off.”

 

The door is wooden but painted to match the pasty blue of the concrete block wall. It’s easy to spot once you get up close but it couldn’t be spotted from afar. It’s heavy, the wood slab attached to the hinges so thick that it weighs enough to make Emma grunt as she pulls on the handle. After a minute of Emma’s futile attempts to open the door with brute force, Regina waves her hand and throws it open without missing a beat.

 

Emma raises her eyes brows and sends her a pointed look. “Seriously? You couldn’t have done that a minute ago?”

 

“Where would be the fun in that?” Regina snarks before glancing down the dark hallway that was revealed when the door opened. She stares like she’s waiting for something and it makes the hairs on Emma’s neck stand.

 

“Is he here?” Emma whispers. She tries to keep her hands from shaking as they pull her gun from her boot.

 

“I don’t have x-ray vision, Miss Swan.”

 

“I know that,” Emma snaps and it’d be almost believable if she could actually make eye contact with Regina, who’s biting her lower lip to keep from laughing at her. As if Emma should be presumptuous and rule out which superpowers Regina has—Hell, she can’t even rule out _what_ she is in the first place. She digresses. “But you have that _spidey-sense_ thingy.”

 

“Eloquently said,” Regina deadpans. “But... yes, he’s here. My _spidey-senses_ are, in fact, _tingling_.” The humor drains from her expression. “He’s not what I’m worried about. There could be others here. Be careful.” 

 

And, well, that’s easier said than done, especially since they’re chasing after a king pin with an organization large enough to fill a stadium. Even if Emma manages to catch him and turn him in, she’d still have to sleep with one eye open in case his men decide she needs to be taken care of. Nothing about the situation she’s in is easy and it makes her nauseous just thinking about it.

 

She can’t obsess over that right now though. She’s about to head into a bunker where a notoriously ruthless drug lord may be with only one way out. She peers over at Regina and nods toward the darkened hallway, to which Regina nods back.

 

They step across the threshold and slowly step down the hallway, peeking into each room they pass just to make sure. It’s a nice setup, Emma has to admit. It reminds her of the speakeasy’s she read about one night at the library. The walls are a soft cream color with dark wooden accents, the furniture is dark oak and matches the color scheme, and each room is large and clean. There isn’t a single dirty dish in the kitchen nor is there any clothing laying around, there’s no commotion or voices floating down the hall, the lights are dimmed, and it all adds up to make Emma shiver with uncertainty.

 

This feels like another trap, but perhaps that’s just her paranoia talking. That paranoia has her whipping out her cellphone and clicking 911 just in case. She doesn’t call, instead stuffing the device in her pocket without locking the screen. It’s there, ready to be used.

 

When they reach the end of the hallway, they’re met with a closed door and a very soft murmuring that sounds like one of the well known newscasters. Whoever is inside the room must be watching television, and that eerie reminder of the night in the forest has her freezing with her hand on the door knob. At least until she feels a comforting hand land softly on her hip only to slide up and over her back. Regina saved her in the forest, she wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and that’s enough to spring her back into action.

 

She turns the doorknob and slowly pushes open the door as her other hand reaches for the gun tucked in her boot. She lifts the gun up in the air and removes the safety, the click of it sounding as loud as a jet in the quiet underground shelter.

 

Once the door is open fully, a putrid stench washes over them and Emma nearly gags. “Oh fuck,” She whispers as she lifts her leather jacket lapel over her nose. Regina’s nails dig into her back as she groans as well. She doesn’t turn away from the dark room as she redundantly asks, “What is that smell?”

 

Emma peeks around the doorway and spots the flashing television on the right side of the room, half eclipsed by a large armchair stationed in front of it. The light of the television let’s her see the dozens of flies swarming around the chair and Emma’s heart beats all the more intensely.

 

She lowers her gun a bit as she steps into the room, pressing the leather jacket tighter against her face as the smell’s strength grows as they inch closer to the plaid armchair.

 

She rounds the chair and gasps, bile rising in her throat. The scene is almost too gruesome for Emma to handle.

 

Lorenzo Falso is sitting in his armchair, hands clutching the armrests and his head hanging back grotesquely, with a bullet wound on his temple. A trickle of blood has dried on its descent down the side of his face—a face seemingly frozen in an expression of shock. He wasn’t expecting this.

 

“Oh god,” Emma chokes out. She hears Regina step up behind her and sigh, seemingly less disturbed at the sight of a corpse.

 

“Call the police, Emma,” Regina urges, and something about the calmness with which it’s said has Emma turning to face her. Regina looks relaxed, like there isn’t a rotting dead body in front of them, and she doesn’t know what to think about that.

 

With a jolt, Emma thinks back on their conversation outside.

 

_“He’s not what I’m worried about. There could be others here. Be careful.”_

 

Regina knew he wasn’t a threat, she said she wasn’t worried about him but worried that other members of his organization were down here. Did Regina know Falso was dead? Did she have something to do with this?

 

Then, as Emma stares at her, lost in her own thoughts, Regina adds, “You can pay back the loanshark. It’s over.”

 

An ending is supposed to feel like a tying up of loose ends, but Emma suddenly finds herself with more questions than she knows what to do with.

 

And when Regina’s eyes find hers, Emma searches them for answers and just hopes beyond reason they don’t destroy her if she sees them.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks around corner* Phew! I did not anticipated being so overwhelmed by grad school and my internship, so I'm sorry this took a bit too long! I really appreciate the validation my mutuals chucked at me about this story cause I was close to abandoning. I'm just so glad you guys are enjoying it! Thank you for the kudos and reviews. Every comment made me smile!

The loanshark’s office is exactly as she remembers: tiny, dimly lit, and smelling of cigars and oregano. She reaches back and quietly shuts the door, trying to listen for any movements or voices as she inches into the room.

 

Sal’s Loans is a hole in the wall, and for good reason. The best way is operate is to stay out of the public eye, to conduct business where law enforcement wouldn’t care to look because it’s so inconspicuous, and to act legitimate. And Sal does in fact give out loans, even if the main purpose of the business is to launder money and be a hideout for mob lackeys. Still, it looks like it was decorated decades ago, which is possible. There’s wood paneling, green scratchy carpet, and golden lamps—almost reminiscent of a poker den.

 

She steps toward the abandoned receptionist desk and pats the pocket of her leather jacket where the payment she portioned off for Sal is, but she freezes when a knife presses against her throat.

 

Sal, a short but bulky Italian man in an orange Hawaiian shirt, swerves into sight with a sneer. “You’ve got some nerve, Swan.”

 

She gulps and her throat bobs against the sharp metal digging into the side of her neck, the pointed end pushing inward and making her wince. She replies cheerfully, “Oh, Hey, Sal! How’s it going?”

 

“Don’t give me that shit, Swan!” Sal shouts gruffly, his raspy voice reverberating through the room. “You stole thousands of dollars from me, evaded and injured my men, and destroyed several of my cars!” He growls, “They were vintage!”

 

Emma lifts her arms in surrender, “I’m sorry, alright? I needed time to find the money.”

 

“You had six months to pay me back in small, manageable increments with no interest!” He jabs his finger toward the life sized cardboard cutout of him in the corner with that same motto hovering over his open palm.

 

“Look, we could yell about this all day,” Emma lifts her finger and pushes the glinting metal weapon away from her neck, “or we could talk reimbursement.”

 

“For ten thousand bucks? I’d rather just murder you right here, right now, and lose out on it.” He snaps, grabbing her forearm forcefully and tugging her closer to him.

 

“Would you reconsider the whole murdering me thing for twenty thousand?” Emma purses her lips and watches on smugly as Sal’s sneer falls right off his face and is replaced with shock with a pinch of suspicion. “That’s fifty percent interest for the trouble I’ve caused.”

 

“Twenty thousand?” Sal sputters, “Where the hell did you get that kind of cash?”

 

“Do you really care?”

 

“No, not particularly.” Sal drops his hand holding the knife then tosses the weapon onto the desk in front of them. Emma brings her hand up to rub at the nick on her neck. With this bloodthirsty lunatic, she couldn’t relax or let her guard down, but she knows money runs his world so she has his attention.

 

She keeps her right hand on the money in her pocket, not pulling the slip of paper out until she’s sure she’s in the clear. She doesn’t trust these men more than she can throw them and, knowing her luck, they’d rip the check from her fingers then shoot her between the eyes.

 

“So, I give you the cash and we’re square?” Emma quirks a brow, “No stalking, no attempted murder, nada?”

 

Sal squinted. “Alright, Swan. I’ll take that deal,” He steps into her personal space and lowers his voice menacingly, “But if you ever cross me again? Sleeping with the fishes will be the least of your worries, _capisce_?”

 

She can see in his eyes that the threat isn’t empty. She nods and tries to inconspicuously clear her throat. Her airway suddenly feels constricted as she mumbles, “I understand.” She slips the four stacks of money from her pockets and drops them into Sal’s outstretched hand. “That’s all of it. You can count it.”

 

“I don’t need your permission, princess, but thank you.” He tosses the money onto the desk, next to the discarded knife, nonchalantly and Emma’s fingers curl into a fist. It takes every modicum of willpower to not strike out against him.

 

She’s just grateful he isn’t aware that she has way more where that came from. Despite Falso being deceased, she still received the reward of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for finding him, so Emma could’ve offered him more but she figured she’d capitalize on his ignorance.

 

“Alright, so I’ll... hopefully _not_ see you around, Sal.” Emma starts to back up and slowly inch toward the door. “It’s been a real treat. Tell your guys I say thanks for nothing.”

 

“Don’t push it, smart ass.” Sal warns just as she crosses the threshold.

 

She leaves the loan sharks office with some form of peace, a weight lifted off her shoulders. Unfortunately, there’s still what feels like six tons weighing her down and every pound of that revolves around Regina.

 

Emma knows she’s been a bit weary since they found Falso’s body and Regina’s been subdued every time. Her snark wasn’t present, she didn’t smile as much as she was before, and the walls had gone back to, except now they have a barbed wire around the edges. And that shift isn’t something Emma’s gotten a chance to study much since Regina has been coming around less and less.

 

Before Falso, she would show up at Archie’s apartment every morning and spend the day, for the most part. Sometimes she’d disappear for an hour or two, but her schedule was consistent. Now, it’s similar to when they first started meeting. Regina shows up randomly and will disappear without warning.

 

She tried to ask her what was wrong but the brunette simply shrugged and assured her everything would be fine eventually, which made her wonder if Regina’s frigid attitude actually had nothing to do with her after all.

 

The brunette weighs on her mind so much, in fact, that Archie finally speaks up about it as Emma divides their Chinese takeout on two plastic plates.

 

He’s sitting at the circular dining table right by kitchen, the open concept floor plan allowing him to watch as she zones out several times while scooping the fried rice out of the white containers. “Hey, Emma?” His quiet prompt startles her from her thoughts. He waits until she’s looking at him before continuing. “Are you alright? You’ve seemed a bit down lately.”

 

Emma’s head is already swinging back and forth in a denial before he even finishes. “I’m good, Archie, I promise. I’ve even come into some money at work with a lucky catch, so I’ll be able to get out of your hair soon.”

 

“Oh,” He mutters as she walks over with their plates and sets it down on the placemats, “That’s wonderful, but you don’t have to go, Emma.”

 

It’s nice of him to offer but she can tell she’s been a hindrance to his already lacking social life. She’s seen him religiously texting a guy whose contact name is Graham with red hearts book ending it and the last thing she wanted was to be in the way of the budding romance.

 

“No, it’s okay. I want my own space and stuff, you know?” She shovels a fork load of rice into her mouth and nearly chokes on a grain. She sips her water and clears her throat. “I’m already looking into some places. I found some affordable apartments over in Jersey.”

 

Their dinner goes on like that, with Emma detailing the apartments she’s been checking out on realtor apps and Archie listening patiently while offering some seasoned advice. Unsurprisingly, Archie heads to bed not long after dinner, leaving Emma to watch some fairytale show on one of the main channels.

 

“What is it with you and fairytales?” That oh-so-familiar husky voice asks from behind her and Emma smiles despite her recent weariness.

 

She cranes her neck to watch Regina prop her hip against the kitchen island and lay her hand on the marble, her nails scratching over the smooth white stone slab. She doesn’t acknowledge the tease and instead softly mumbles, “Hey.”

 

Regina shrugs, shy all of a sudden. “Hey.”

 

Emma doesn’t move but continues to stare. “It’s been a few days.” The words come out bitter and acrid, and she tries to soften the blow with a joke. “I almost forgot what you looked like.”

 

Regina hums noncommittally and stumbles toward the couch with unsure steps. “I’m here now.”

 

The breezy way Regina’s acting rubs Emma the wrong way. She feels a flush of anger and her fingers grip the couch cushion under her until her knuckles are white. “That’s all you have to say?” Emma snaps, though her voice is even, dangerous.

 

“Did you get the money and pay the loan shark?” Regina asks. They’d been waiting for the police department to fork over the cash reward for over a week but she hasn’t seen Regina since she received it last night. She nods, lips pursed and shoulders tense, more tense than she’s ever been around Regina, which includes when she first realized Regina was invisible to everyone but her. “Good,” Regina mumbles, her shoulders sagging with something that could easily be mistaken for relief if Emma didn’t know her better. “Then... I suppose _this_ has run its course.”

 

Emma quirks a brow and watches Regina shuffle in place, the hardwood not even creaking, like there’s no one standing there. “This? What are you—“ She freezes when she realizes. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

 

Regina flinches but her expression stays annoyingly blank. “We agreed that I’d help with your predicament. That’s what I did.”

 

Emma jumps up from the couch, clenches her fists, and yells, “You agreed to stay!”

 

A door flies open behind her and Emma gasps, swiveling to see Archie standing by his door, watching her with a concerned gaze. “Emma... who are you talking to?”

 

She darts her eyes back toward the kitchen but no one’s there. Regina isn’t standing there in her patented black outfit and a blank expression, and Emma’s heart drops. When she goes to look back at Archie, he’s walking towards her and she can tell his concern has sky rocketed.

 

“Sorry if I woke you,” is what numbly tumbles from her mouth.

 

He sighs as stops in front of her. “Emma, I thought you—“

 

“I lied.” She confesses, knowing what he was going to say. “I never stopped seeing her. I just—I didn’t want her to... to leave me.”

 

Archie just stares at her knowingly. It makes her shiver under the scrutiny. She only has to endure a few seconds of tense silence before Archie speaks up again, and when he does, it’s a plea. “Emma, you need to see someone. This, the constant hallucinations, isn’t healthy.”

 

“She’s not a hallucination,” she growls with so much conviction that the therapist folds his arms, like he knows he’s about to enter a battle of wits to get her help, something she doesn’t feel she needs. “She told me about her shitty mom, and her dad that never stood up for her, and her boyfriend that died. She lived, Archie!”

 

And now Archie deflates, nodding like he’s finally gotten all the answers. “So, this woman had parents she resents and was left by a lover she cared for and trusted. Emma, does that sound familiar?”

 

The words make her knees buckle as memories of the foster care system, of nightmares of faceless biological parents she hates, and of Neal spring up. Archie must see the panic on her face because he steps forward and grips her biceps with his gentle hands.

 

He says, “This woman was a seemingly external way for you to deal with your own issues, the ones you never wanted to talk about during our sessions. I know this sounds harsh, Emma, but... no one else could see her because no one else is privy to your thoughts and the manipulations of your senses. Millions of people have seen or heard ghosts, but no one else has seen Regina. I never want to push you, but I think it’s time you get help.”

 

* * *

 

The Manhattan Psychiatric Center is a seventeen story building in the city and Emma hates it more than she can describe. Truthfully, it’s better than she thought it’d be when Archie suggested a short stay there to assess her mental health and come up with a treatment plan, but she feels out of place. Though most of the patients probably feel the same way.

 

She has daily sessions with one of the psychiatrists and he probes into every aspect of her life: her childhood, her job, and, inevitably, Regina. He’s the first person she tells about the loan shark and her previous money troubles, and it’s actually nice to confess to someone.

 

Regina never shows up. Emma’s more disappointed and heartbroken than anything, but she keeps that buried deep inside where no one can see. It turns out to be harder than she could’ve imagined, especially since her new psychiatrist, David, is a wise, sweet older man that could get her to open up like no one else could.

 

Like he’s managing to now.

 

“So you have... _feelings_ for this woman?” He empathizes it but Emma somehow doesn’t feel judged. Maybe it’s his slack, calm face, or his light blue eyes filled with a brightness only few people can genuinely have, or his relaxed posture, but Emma finds herself smiling at the question.

 

“I did—do, I guess.” Her smile wanes, “That’s insane, isn’t it?”

 

She expects an affirmative but David just smiles and shakes his head. “I don’t like to use that word, so no.”

 

“But... this isn’t healthy?” She asks, but immediately clears her throat, realizing that she’s asking a question she should know the answer to. Quietly, she reminds herself, “She _wasn’t_ real.”

 

It’s a mantra she keeps repeating whenever she thinks about the mysterious brunette... so basically all the damn time.

 

David, though, discourages her. “She was real, Emma. She was real to you.”

 

Emma chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, just to me.”

 

David watches her with enough empathy to make her eyes water. “Tell me about her, about the first time you saw her.”

 

“I, um, got into a fight in prison and got my ass handed to me.” Emma smirks when David stifles a laugh. “I was in the infirmary, had just woken up after the pain meds knocked me out for the second time that day, and there she was, standing over me. I remember thinking she was a nurse, even though she wasn’t in uniform.”

 

David nods and writes something down in the notebook in his lap. “What did you talk about?”

 

“She seemed surprised that I could see her. I didn’t notice that back that cause, you know, drugs, but yeah.” Emma thinks back then laughs, “She scolded me, said I was going down a dark path, like a _Scared Straight_ monologue.”

 

As she watches his scribble in his notebook, she wonders if that exchange was her own mind trying to change, like she knew her lifestyle wasn’t conducive to success or a lucrative future of any kind. It was a conversation she drew on for many years after. It lead her to bounty hunting, to fighting for survival and working hard.

 

“Did she disappear after that?”

 

“For a few months. Then I saw her once in the prison parking lot when I was released, but I scared her off—well, I guess I pushed her to the back of my mind,” Emma swallows roughly. “Then it took years for her to come back. It got consistent for a while there, but... I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

 

“So there hasn’t been a pattern, per se?” David asks, not taking his eyes off his notes.

 

“No, not really,” Emma admits. She chews on her bottom lip. The air is stifling in the room all of sudden, as if her body just knows where this conversation is heading.

 

He doesn’t prove her wrong.

 

“I’d like to ask you some questions about your mood, your cognitive abilities, and your beliefs. An intake, if you will. Is that alright?” She nods despite her stomach turning and David gives her a few seconds to prepare before he starts with, “Have you had any issues with memory loss, disorientation, amnesia, mental confusion, or slowness in processing?”

 

She’s poised to say no when she remembers blood splatter on a cabin wall. “A few weeks ago... I was in the forest, remembered getting attacked by a group of men and being saved by Regina, who killed them. I fell unconscious but when I woke up, I was alone with no evidence that it had actually happened. Regina said she took care of it.”

 

David’s eyebrows shoot up before he can censor himself. Then, “I see.”

 

She bites the fleshy inside of her cheek. “I, uh, don’t know if I hallucinated that or dreamed it or what, but... yeah. I also got into a fist fight with my friend because of it. I thought he set me up.” She tenses in her seat, “Oh _god_ , August.”

 

David purses his lips and waits as she absorbs the weight of the situation, as she realizes that August may be walking around with cuts and scrapes and bruises even though he was innocent, that she may have lost a friend and a brother figure over a situation concocted in her mind.

 

Softly, he continues, “What about your mood, Emma? Have you been noticeably anxious? Perhaps you lost interest in hobbies you once enjoyed or became easily aggravated?”

 

Those all sound suspiciously similar to the symptoms she used to hear in depression commercials, which isn’t something she ever gave much thought to. But she can spot it now in hindsight. Still, she refuses to voice it out loud and instead nods.

 

David moves on after writing down an assessment. This time, he straightens and gives her what’s supposed to be a reassuring half-smile. “We know you’ve been experiencing hallucinations, but have you been paranoid or believing people are after you?”

 

Now she pauses, because she was being followed and harassed by mob lackeys, so her paranoia was entirely justified. Yet she finds herself questioning everything. Did she borrow money from the loan shark? Did Sal even exist? Were the last three months one long, lucid nightmare?

 

She has no answers, so she says the most honest one she can give.

 

“I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

 

* * *

 

There’s a tornado of medical terms thrown at her a few days after that session with David, words like Chlorpromazine and anti-psychotic and Schizophrenia. David tries to explain everything in layman’s terms but Emma gets overwhelmed and frustrated each time he tries.

 

She doesn’t feel ill and the strategies they keep talking about for making her well are terrifying. There’s words like side effects and precautions and warnings, and Emma almost vomits every time someone tries to get her to sign consent forms.

 

On visitor day, she’s greeted by Lily’s grim, but empathetic, expression. The waitress is sitting at the metal table in the visiting room in her black jeans, red converse, black tank, and a red leather jacket Emma gave her during their teen years. She looks so good that Emma starts subconsciously pulling at the fabric of her state issued sweatpants and sweatshirt.

 

“Hey, Ems.” Lily gives her a small wave that makes her genuinely smile for the first time in days.

 

She falls into the seat across from the brunette and says, “Hey. How’s Granny and Ruby?”

 

“Worried like crazy about you,” Lily says, only to immediately grimace at her choice of words. Emma tries to sooth the tension with a gentle chuckle.

 

“Tell them I’m okay.”

 

“Would I be lying if I did?” Lily stares at her pointedly.

 

“I don’t know. I’m confused and I’m terrified, but it’s not so bad. The people here... they care about what happens to me and I got my own room with a nice view. I guess I just miss the freedom of having no schedule and doing whatever I wanted.” Emma says. Her fingers are tracing the graffiti carved into the metal table top so she misses Lily’s apprehension.

 

“You could leave, you know? You could come crash with me, like the old days. We always took care of each other, this won’t be any different.” Lily says, her hands darting forward to cover Emma’s.

 

Emma’s head snaps up as she stares Lily down, looking for the ulterior motive lingering somewhere in those words. She knows Lily still has feelings for her but would she really do something detrimental to Emma’s mental health just to force a situation where those feelings may grow to be reciprocated?

 

Her hands slide out from under Lily’s as she smiles disingenuously. “This is the best place for me right now. I need to know what’s wrong, talk through it and... and maybe get medication. The way we lived, that’s not who I am anymore. I can’t run from this.”

 

Lily nods like she agrees but she can see the disappointment in her expression. She ignores it in favor of asking about August. “He’s been MIA since your fight but I could look into it if you want?”

 

“Yeah, please do.” Emma grimaces, “I think he and I should talk instead of just throwing punches.”

 

* * *

 

After two months at the center, Emma starts to enjoy the routine and finds the therapy sessions with David to be helpful. Her mood slowly improves and she starts to feel more centered thanks to the free yoga and meditation classes hosted by David’s middle aged, but extremely fit, wife, Mary Margaret.

 

She’s a bit too cheery, her smile always wide and plastered on her face, but she’s kind and Emma’s surprisingly fond of her. It’s the first time in a long time she’s forged a friendship with someone where she felt fully supported.

 

Still, the team of psychiatrists keep peddling anti-psychotics to her despite David vouching that her auditory and visual hallucinations have ceased for weeks. He doesn’t have an explanation as to how or why they have stopped and the other doctors seem to believe this period of calm is temporary.

 

They think Regina will come back. Emma doesn’t know how to feel about that. She misses the brunette, no matter how aloof she got towards the end, but she also knows seeing Regina means downing Chlorpromazine, or Thorazine, which she isn’t too keen on doing.

 

David makes a strong case for Regina being a hallucination, a product of her spiraling mind, and it all makes sense, but she has that niggling feeling in her gut that he’s wrong. It’s a conversation she won’t bring up, no matter how frequently David skirts around it in hopes she will.

 

It’s a conversation that makes her want to sob into her pillow and that’s enough for her to banish any further thought of it.

 

Archie visits every week like clockwork and gives Emma updates on Pongo, his new Dalmatian puppy that’s taken to destroying every piece of furniture in the house and has a fascination with chewing on Archie’s leather shoes, and on her precious Bug, which he had parked in his storage locker outside the city and recently took to the mechanic to get serviced.

 

Granny comes by once and brings some bear claws that Emma chows down in a few minutes. The dessert options at the center are either jello or the rock-hard cookies Mary Margaret tries to make, so the pastries are a godsend.

 

Lily comes back a few times, one day telling her that August is living with his uncle in Albany and doesn’t wish to see her. She understands, even if the knowledge that she ruined a friendship over possibly nothing is enough to make her lose her appetite.

 

Overall, it’s the least lonely she’s ever felt, including those weeks where Regina was consistently popping up. It’s different having one person—or thing—keeping you company versus having a village behind you.

 

Yet there’s a part of her that needs that one missing person— _no_. No, she can’t think like that. She can’t afford to.

 

In the middle of the second month at the center, she starts to forget what Regina’s laugh sounds like and it keeps her bed-ridden for a few days when she realizes it. David tries to tell her that she can’t forget a voice she manifested but it doesn’t feel right. Even after weeks upon weeks of agreeing that a hallucination, her original hypothesis, was the only way to make sense of this, she still felt so conflicted internally.

 

She barely eats or drinks in those days and she doesn’t attend the weekly visitors day, and Ruby calls the center, worried, only to receive cryptic answers from the staff. It’s a fiasco of her own creating but she can’t stop it.

 

Nothing coaxes her from the bed.

 

Well, except for the tell-tale tingling she feels on the nape of her neck, of course.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I've never been to Manhattan's Psychiatric Center, but I did read some reviews of the place. I also know these places aren't a positive experience for many but I wanted to give Emma a little break. She's going through a lot! 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think! Feel free to express the anger that cliffhanger may have caused haha


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few revelations in this one! We're getting closer to the truth!

There are moments in one’s life that are unforgettable. For Emma, she has quite a few, like the night she was first hit by a foster parent or when police sirens began to blare under the overpass where she’d been waiting for Neal with the stolen merchandise. She can remember what she was wearing, the day of the week, everything.

 

Yet she somehow knows those moments will never hold a candle to this, to whatever is about to happen. Something in the air feels heavy, like everything is about to change, and it has her frozen on the bed, tears rolling down her face.

 

The tingling spreads from the nape of her neck down to her back, then to her legs, until it’s encapsulated her entire being. Her blood is vibrating under her skin, every hair is standing up, every muscle tense.

 

Then she hears it, a soft shuffling of two feet in the corner of her room, and a fearful “no” tumbles from her lips before she can even process what she means by that. The shuffling stops and Emma’s eyes fly open, her ears perked up and listening for any small sound.

 

So much so that the quiet and shy “Emma” feels like a gunshot in the silence. It feels like a gunshot for so many reasons.

 

Her eyes slam shut at the sudden pain in her chest and an accusatory “You left” spills from her lips before she can remind herself that the other woman never left, she was never real, she can’t leave her when her mind controls her. She winces at the thoughts and is so focused on berating herself that she doesn’t notice the edge of the bed depress under _her_ weight.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Regina whispers against her ear, making her shiver. “ _Please_. I’m sorry. I tried, I swear I did.”

 

“You tried?!” Emma growls, her back still turned even as she feels Regina trying to push her onto her back. “It’s been two months. You can’t be here.”

 

“I tried, Emma.” Regina sounds so desperate that Emma actually allows probing hands to roll her onto her back. Regina looks terrible, which is hard to do considering the brunette is basically heaven sent. There’s prominent dark circles under her eyes, a gash near her hairline that looks fresh, and she looks thinner than she remembers. Regina looks worn out and desperate and worried, and Emma hates how quickly her anger fades.

 

“What happened to you?” Emma says before thinking. The bed suddenly feels uncomfortable so she shifts to sit up, which nearly pushes Regina off the bed’s edge.

 

“Nothing,” Regina snaps then grimaces when she notices Emma’s startled expression. The brunette never really raised her voice at the blonde before, even during those last few days where she was becoming absent and colder. “I’m—I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“Regina?” Emma’s anger is gone at this point, not fully but pushed to the back burner as worry takes over.

 

The brunette’s chin quivers. It’s the only sign she hears Emma. Then, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Okay,” Emma drags the word out and doesn’t pull away when Regina grips her hand, but this entire encounter has her off balance.

 

She just started believing Regina was a figment of her imagination, even though she sincerely didn’t want her to be, and now here she was after weeks of absence. She doesn’t know if to be relieved to see the woman she missed so emphatically or if she should be signing the consent papers for the anti-psychotics. Her mind is jumbled, yet she finds herself admitting, “I don’t even know if I’m actually talking to you or if you even exist or... Regina, I don’t know anything anymore.”

 

“I’m right here,” Regina says it so desperately, her voice raw in a way she’s never heard, and Emma wants to believe so badly.

 

But she’s done believing blindly. She straightens her posture and defiantly responds, “Prove it.”

 

Regina looks slightly taken aback, maybe because Emma used to take her word at face value. She nearly chokes on air as she rasps, “I—I’ll try. I don’t know how... yet.”

 

“I have to tell them I saw you.” Emma says, which incites a wide-eyed worry from the brunette. It makes her defensive. “I need to. If you’re a symptom of a mental illness, they have to know so I can treat it.”

 

Regina flinches at that and Emma bites her lower lip, realizing how insensitive that could sound, like getting rid of Regina is something she wouldn’t think twice about. Before Emma can even apologize for being crass about it, Regina jolts on the edge of the bed to stand. “That’s it!”

 

Emma quirks her brow, “What’s it?”

 

“That idiot therapist! You see him once a week now, don’t you?” Regina asks.

 

“How do you—“ Emma huffs, “Right, you know _everything_. Yeah, I should probably go see him tomorrow. I missed our last session cause...”

 

She trails off but the guilt swimming in brown eyes lets her know that the sentiment still rang across the room. Still, Regina nods eagerly despite it. “Do that. I’ll be there, I swear, and I’ll show him, and you, that I’m not just a figment of your imagination.”

 

A shock of nervousness shoots through her as she contemplates the possibility of Regina not being real, just as she had started to believe sometime during the last two months, but she agrees because she has to know, once and for all. If Regina can somehow show herself to David, the man she trusts most at the moment, then perhaps the truth will finally be revealed.

 

Before she can even agree, Regina’s head jerks to the side like she hears something despite the silence ringing in Emma’s ears. The brunette winces, “I have to go.”

 

Emma shakes her head. “Regina, no. It’s been two months, just stay awhile—“

 

“I can’t. He wants me back—“

 

“He?” Emma sputters, “W—Who? What’s going on?” Regina’s tenses and Emma knows the brunette has revealed something important, something she shouldn’t be privy to, and she’s suddenly hungry to learn more. “Regina?”

 

“I have to go,” Regina replies apologetically, her nose scrunching and her eyes fearful. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? I promise.”

 

“As if your promises mean anything to me anymore,” Emma snaps and immediately regrets it when Regina flinches away and can’t seem to look at her anymore.

 

Regina turns to dust without another word.

 

* * *

 

“I’m so glad you’re up and about again, Emma.”

 

“Thanks, doc.”

 

The air in David’s office is stuffy today, Emma thinks. Nothing was different with it, really. The walls are still colored in that dark blue shade with some wood accents lining where each panel of plaster had connected, and the floors are still matching the wood accents in color, a dark and rich mahogany, and the couches are still black and overly stuffed for comfort. She can still see the visible evidence of David’s lack of interest in dusting when the light of the sun filters through the blinds. She stares at David’s familiar light blue eyes and his greying sandy hair and his soft sweater and jean combo, and it’s all the same as when she was last here. Yet... she feels unbalanced, unsettled, uneasy.

 

Maybe she’s different now. She’s certainly weary and quite nervous about Regina’s impending visit. There’s answers in Regina’s appearance or absence and she’s not sure what she wants anymore. She knows she wants Regina—mind, body, and soul—but that desire is most likely never going to be fulfilled. So, her options are limited.

 

“So...” David pauses as he looks down at his notes, “You’ve had an emotional few days. Do you want to talk about what brought that on?”

 

Emma blows out a heavy breath and shrugs. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. It’s been a rough few months—no, _years_. And I know it sounds crazy but I lost the only confidant I’ve ever really had. Not by death or estrangement, but because she just might be a figment of my imagination. I guess it all caught up to me when I was thinking about the night we watched Snow White and I realized I couldn’t remember what her laugh sounded like. It felt like... like I lost her again.”

 

David nods, “That’s understandable. It felt like you were losing her piece by piece as time went by without an appearance. Despite her origins, she was a source of comfort and familiarity. It’s only natural to miss that, right?”

 

She nods back at him and smiles slightly. He’s the only person that validates her thoughts on Regina and doesn’t make her feel like a total basket case. “But, uh, I saw her again.”

 

David freezes in his chair, his shoulders dropping in what Emma can assume is disappointment. Slowly, he says, “I see.” He swallows and she watches on with her heart practically beating in her throat. “Well... I suppose that’s to be expected considering you were missing her so terribly. What happened? What did you two speak about?”

 

She likes that he externalizes Regina, makes her into her own entity even though he believes her to be a part of Emma’s psyche.

 

“She apologized for being gone and she looked so—she looked hurt. She had a cut on her forehead and moved pretty slowly.” Emma relays the information and immediately can tell how David will spin this. He’ll say she missed Regina and therefore conjured her as apologetic and wounded, to make her sympathetic, so she can soothe the anger she felt at her. Before he can even dig into that spiel, she continues, “She said she could prove she’s real. She said she’d be here.”

 

“Is she here?” David asks, his eyes darting around the room before settling on her.

 

She’s about to say no when she feels her. She barely looks to her side when she feels a hand cover her own on her lap. She stares at the brunette next to her, perched on the plump couch cushion, and smiles softly as she rasps, “She’s here.”

 

Regina smiles back and squeezes Emma’s hand. She came back.

 

David’s voice interrupts her, “Is she next to you?”

 

Regina’s gaze doesn’t waver from Emma as she whispers, “Tell him I’m about to knock his notebook from his hands.”

 

And _oh_ , _that smart little—_

 

“Emma? Are you okay?” David interrupts again. Emma turns to him and notices just how worried he looks.

 

“She says she’s going to rip your notebook from your hands.”

 

Just as the words leave her mouth, Regina’s hand lifts from hers to outstretch towards David. Her fingers curls inward like she’s grabbing something then she pulls back toward her body. The next thing they know, David’s black notebook is aggressively ripped from his hands to hover in the space between them.

 

She wonders if she’s imagining it until she sees his face. David looks as pale as a ghost and his eyes are frozen wide, trained on the floating notebook. His mouth opens and closes several times. Still, she asks, “You see that too, right?”

 

David’s mouth clicks shut for only a few seconds before an incredulous _“Holy shit!”_ reverberates through the room _._ Emma breathes a sigh of relief as a smile blooms on her face. She hears Regina’s delighted chuckle in her ear and it makes her smile widen even more.

 

“Tell him I’m going open the recliner on his chair.” Regina’s voice is full of mirth and Emma feels lighter than she’s felt in two months.

 

“She’s going to open your recliner.”

 

Regina thrusts out her hand and gestures with two fingers, making David go flying backward as his chair props back to accommodate the foot rest. David arches his back against the armchair and stares at her in wonder and shock. Emma would feel bad for him if she wasn’t nearly exploding with relief and joy and affection.

 

“ _Emma_ ,” David gasps. “How—?”

 

“I told you, David.” Emma’s eyes start to burn and she has to bite her tongue to stop the tears building up from falling. “She’s real. I don’t know what she is, but she’s real.”

 

David seems to lose all of his breath at that. His notebook slowly floats over to his lap and plonks down, opening to a blank page toward the back. Regina flicks her finger toward the pen sitting idly on the side table and gestures at it until it floats over to the notebook and starts scribbling.

 

David watches intently as Regina writes something down. Whatever it is, it makes him visibly soften. His calloused fingers grip the book and bring it closer to his chest, and when Emma attempts to crane her neck to see it, he pulls it against his sweater firmly, hiding the words. She tries to gauge something from Regina’s expression but she’s simply watching Emma, wonderstruck.

 

“I...” David’s voice is quiet and restrained in a way she’s never witnessed, “I believe you.”

 

Emma’s not sure if he’s talking to her or to Regina about whatever she wrote, but a sigh of relief bursts from her lungs unabashedly.

 

Her joy is slightly deflated when Regina leans in and tells her she has to go. She promises to come back, but Emma knows something is going on with the brunette. Someone, a man apparently, is controlling Regina and forcing her to stay away for extended periods of time. She wants to know everything, which she definitely won’t get, especially not now with David still watching her and processing the events he just witnessed.

 

So she just nods and watches as Regina disappears into the air like the dust particles floating across the light beams.

 

Later, when David’s standing to open the door to let her out, he’s too lost in thought to remember he’s supposed to be hiding the message Regina scrawled in his notebook. With his back turned, Emma leans over the coffee table to peak at the open notebook and swallows a gasp at the crisp, cursive letters written clearly on the page.

 

_She is my world_

 

Emma’s knees wobble as she stand over the notebook and looks over the four words over and over until her eyes are watery enough to obscure her view. She has to fight the urge to tear the page and take it with her because she knows David hid it for a reason.

 

Still, as she lays in bed later that evening, those four words continue to take over her thoughts and dreams.

 

* * *

 

All it takes is one question being answered to make Emma hungry for more. She wants to know everything, but the one thing she does know for certain is that Regina won’t easily reveal the rest.

 

Regina was always so cautious and kept things quiet. The small bits and pieces of information she’s gotten over time have Emma thinking she may just be a ghost—for real, this time. She was once alive, had a family and a life, but now she’s only seen by Emma and is apparently being controlled by someone. Perhaps a vicious lover she had later in life? Those ghost shows also talk about demons controlling good ghosts, so maybe that’s a thing.

 

She’s mulling this all over as she packs up her belongings from her assigned room at the center. She was told she could be discharged, that David told the board and other staff members that Emma was fine to leave, andshe took them up on it. They needed the beds for people that actually had mental health issues and she was desperate to start her new life with the bounty money.

 

She managed to find a nice, inexpensive place near Morningside Park and Lily gave her a thumbs up when she checked the place out over the weekend and dropped off her rent deposit. Her friend also picked up her Bug with Archie’s help and planned to pick her up today. Emma knows Lily’s being overly agreeable for selfish reasons but she needs the help in getting things together again and she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

Archie gives her a giant hug when they arrive and Pongo barks happily, his tail wagging against her jeans. Lily stays rooted in the drivers seat and waves her toward the Bug.

 

The drive to the apartment is full of chatter, mostly from Archie. He’s obviously curious about her release and slightly worried about her mental health even though a colleague deemed her ready to leave. He tries to slyly figure out if she’s on medication but Emma leaves him wondering, instead just mentioning how happy she is to be starting over.

 

Granny and Ruby are waiting for them at the apartment, keys in hand, and immediately wrap Emma in a hug while Archie and Lily start lugging her few belongings from the car she slept in for years into her new apartment. Pongo barks at them from the open car window and Emma makes sure to grab his leash and take him with them when they finally go inside.

 

The apartment is nice, much classier than Emma expected for less than a thousand a month, and she almost cries when she realizes that her friends put money together to buy her a bunch of furniture.

 

The one thing she has to grapple with is the silence and loneliness that befalls her when all her friends leave at the end of the night. Just as she slips into bed, facing the wall, her eyes start to water—god, she’s so emotional lately and it’s probably because David opened the floodgates when he got her to talk about her pain—she feels that tingle and smiles instead.

 

“Hey,” She whispers, knowing Regina is behind her. The bed jolts and a few seconds later, Regina’s hand slides across her back.

 

“Hello, darling,” is whispered back, tickling the shell of her ear and making her shiver slightly.

 

“You like my new place?” She asks. The question almost sticks in her throat. The need for validation makes it easier. 

 

“It’s certainly a major step up from the metal coffin on wheels.” Regina jokes smoothly and Emma chuckles, shaking the bed.

 

“Don’t be mean to my Bug! She’s been a trusty companion for years.” She huffs and playfully slaps at the hand roaming over Emma’s shoulder.

 

Regina squeezes her flesh and shakes her slightly in jest. “It’s a great place, Emma. I’m glad I got to see it.”

 

There’s an edge to her voice that has Emma twisting onto her back so she can peer directly into those familiar brown eyes. “What’s going on? You’ve eluded to some dark shit the past few days.”

 

Regina shakes her head, her mouth quirking downward. “It’s nothing, really. Just...”

 

“Come on, Regina. You know me, alright? I won’t tell anyone or do anything. I just want to know... _something_.” Emma rubs at her forehead until Regina swats her hand away. The brunette looks unsure as she clears her throat.

 

There’s a few moments of weighted silence before Regina starts talking.

 

“I was alive once a long time ago, though I’m not sure I’m actually dead.” Emma scrunches her brow but doesn’t interrupt and Regina looks slightly grateful for that. “My mother did kill my lover, my father was a kind man that didn’t have a backbone, and I... I tried to be what she wanted. It was never enough.”

 

Regina laughs but it’s dark and angry and Emma feels compelled to reach over and run her hands all over the brunette’s back in a soothing motion. Regina continues, “I lived in another realm, which I’m sure sounds incredibly insane—“

 

Emma interrupts, “Insane has officially been stripped from my vocabulary since yesterday.”

 

Regina smirks at that and Emma silently pats herself on the back for brining the brunette’s mood back up, even if just slightly. “As I was saying,” Regina drawls, “I’m from another realm and my mother was obsessed with making me queen. At least until Daniel.”

 

“She killed him.” Emma says and hates the way Regina flinches.

 

The brunette shakes it off with a shrug. “Yes, she did, and right in front of me. After that, after she realized I wouldn’t just follow her vision, she changed tune. Suddenly, she grew tired of attempting to make me queen and instead focused on making herself queen.”

 

“And?” Emma prompts once Regina falls silent.

 

“She made a deal with the devil,” Regina says it with almost no emotion and Emma just waits, needing to understand. When Regina finally looks her in the eye, Emma realizes she’s not being hyperbolic.

 

“She made a deal with...”

 

“The devil. Some cultures or folktales know him as Hades,” Regina confirms. “She wanted power and she stooped low to get it.”

 

“But what does that have to do with—“

 

“I was her bargaining chip, Emma.” Regina can’t seem to look at her as she says it. She’s embarrassed, Emma knows, which makes so much anger simmer in her chest. “Hades... He was constantly looking for a bride, someone to rule beside him, but mortals feared him and thus rebuked his efforts.”

 

“So you’re, what, the queen of the hell?” Emma stares at her wide-eyed, because _fuck_. Is she actually crushing on the _devils wife?_ Honestly, that’s a sure fire way to get herself killed.

 

Regina’s bites on her lower lip and looks ready to answer when there’s a loud bang on her front door. Emma squints at the clock on her bedside and becomes weary when she sees its past midnight. It’s fairly late and she’s still highly paranoid over the whole Sal thing even though he hasn’t made any attempts in the last two months.

 

“I’ll be right back.” Emma says and holds up her finger. Regina nods but looks unsure and Emma wonders if she might have to go soon, if _he_ will want her back home before she finishes dealing with whoever’s at the door.

 

Truthfully, she should’ve expected this, should’ve expected Lily to show up to her apartment slightly tipsy after a long night at a bar, but she hoped her brunette friend would take the hint and stop trying so hard.

 

“Ems!” Lily slurs through a dopey smile. “You’re up!”

 

“Even if I wasn’t, you banged on the door hard enough to knock it off it’s hinges.” Emma frowned, not terribly excited to see her friend. She knows why Lily’s here, knows what Lily expects, but Emma can’t continue their friends with benefits status. Regina changed everything, as strange as that seems, and she can’t accept anything less than what she feels for the brunette currently lounging on her bed. “Why don’t I call you cab, huh?”

 

It’s Lily’s turn to frown. “I thought I’d spend the night?”

 

Emma sighs. “Come on, Lily, you know it’s not like that anymore. Let me call you a cab, alright? It’s really late and you’re drunk.”

 

Emma ignores the pleading look on Lily’s face in favor of searching for her cellphone. She finds it on the living room coffee table that Granny bought her and opens the Uber app.

 

She figures she might as well pay for the waitress’ ride home after all this trouble. She feels partly responsible for Lily’s insistence, knowing she’s given the other woman mixed signals over the years. She never meant to, but Lily was young and attractive and they got along well, so they slept together. But that’s all it was supposed to be.

 

Before the app even loads, two hands grip her wrists and tug her backward, sending her flying onto the black rug Ruby had gotten her. The material chafes her skin as she lands on it and the wind gets knocked out of her the next second when a heavy weight lands squarely on top of her.

 

Emma gapes at the smirking brunette on top of her then tries to push her off, but Lily is significantly more forceful. “Playing hard to get, huh?”

 

“No, you jackass!” Emma growls and shoves her, hard, and it’s Lily’s turn to go flying backward. The drunken brunette falls onto her front and whines when the rug burns her cheek. “What the fuck, Lily!”

 

The younger woman slams her fist into the coffee table, splitting open the skin of her knuckles, and cries out angrily. “You—! Fuck off, Emma!” Lily stumbles to her feet and glares down at Emma, who’s still sprawled out on the floor. “You don’t get to use me whenever you want! What about me, huh?!”

 

Emma sucks in a breath and watches as her friend— _former friend?—_ trips over her own feet to run out the front door.

 

“You should stop her.” Regina’s voice startles her and Emma has to take a second to breathe before registering the words. She cranes her neck to watch Regina shuffle on her feet nervously.

 

“Hell no,” Emma huffs. “She’s drunk off her ass and acting stupid. I don’t want to deal with that right now.”

 

“She’s going to get herself killed,” Regina mumbles and something about the way she says it has Emma running after the other brunette, but when she reaches the street, Lily is nowhere to be found.

 

And when she gets upstairs, Regina is gone.

 

All that’s left is silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me know what you think (and if your theories have changed)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your questions have been answered (mostly)! This is the big reveal and I hope you're surprised and happy with it. Please let me know what you think!

It isn’t the incessant beeping of a heart monitor that wakes her, and it’s not the spine tingling feeling she’s come to associate with Regina. No, it’s the feeling that she’s being watched that brings her fully out of her light sleep.

 

Emma jolts up in the cot the nurse had given her the night before when she refused to leave despite visiting hours being over and whips her head toward the hospital bed, only to sigh in relief when she sees glazed over green eyes staring back at her.

 

She scoots toward the bed nervously. “Hey, you’re awake.” Emma scoffs internally, because _obviously_. She moves to click the red button by the heart monitor, so the nurses will swarm the room and make the patient comfortable, but a gentle hand grips her arm and stops her movements.

 

The brunette searches Emma’s gaze for something but the blonde is so wound up after the whirlwind of events last night that she can barely keep her emotions in check long enough for anything to be deciphered.

 

“I’m so sorry, Emma—“

 

“Lily, it’s f—“

 

“It’s not,” Lily grounds out self-deprecatingly and Emma can’t argue, because it wasn’t fine, and it still isn’t, but that won’t deter her from being here for her friend. The brunette frowns. “I was an asshole—actually, I was worse than an asshole. I tried to... _god_.”

 

“You were drunk, and we had an arrangement that I never cut off officially. That’s one me.”

 

Lily doesn’t take the out. “The moment you said no, I should’ve backed off.” The words are said with such conviction that Emma can already feel forgiveness bubbling up in her chest.

 

“Yeah,” Emma concedes. “I’m just glad you didn’t... I’m glad things didn’t _end_ that waybetween us.”

 

It’s then that Lily looks away to take in the tubes and wires hanging off her and the bed. The hospital gown is a ghastly mint green, but it makes the brunette’s eyes pop, especially considering how pale she is at the moment. Emma gulps at her dazed expression, knowing Lily must be thinking about the accident and curious about her injuries.

 

“How did I get here?” Lily asks under her breath.

 

Emma’s brows scrunch. “What do you mean? You walked to the hospital. A nurse found you laying on the pavement outside as she walked to her car. You don’t remember that?”

 

“No...” Lily stares at the ceiling tiles, dazed.

 

But then the brunette lets her head fall back and a flush of relief befalls her. Her wide eyes dart back to Emma and she smiles in awe.

 

“I was walking back to the bar and decided to take a shortcut through the alley on fifth. It was stupid, I know that—well, sober me knows that.” Lily inhales slowly through her nose and picks at the rough material of her gown. Emma watches her and waits patiently.

 

She knows the gist of what happened, heard what the nurse that found Lily told the cops while she waited for information on her friend from the doctors, but she wants to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

 

“I was stomping through, all angry and indignant, when a guy shoved me against the brick wall of the pawn shop, right next to the dumpster. He tried to take my purse and my necklace,” Lily unconsciously fingers the star pendant hanging from the only gold chain she owns. “I fought him, because I’m a sentimental idiot, I guess. I couldn’t let him have this. It’s all I have left of... of my mom.”

 

The word sounds foreign on the tongue of an orphan, but Lily’s situation was so different from Emma’s. Malinda Ficent didn’t give Lily up. She was a single mother with no family to speak of that met her tragic end in a house fire after expending all of her energy to get Lily to safety. Mal had slipped her star necklace around Lily’s neck before lowering the child out the second story window of their house to the front lawn with tied together sheets. The flames swallowed her before the firefighters could get there. Lily still remembers her screams of agony, still wakes up in a cold sweat some nights, and that necklace is the only thing that calms her.

 

Emma wants to be angry, to call her an idiot for risking her life over a necklace, but she doesn’t, and she can’t, not when there’s a white baby blanket with her name knit in purple hidden in a guitar case she stole in her Bug.

 

“He got tired of fighting me, I guess, and took out a shiv or a knife or kitchen shears, something sharp. I think he got me in the stomach,” Lily’s hand trails from the necklace to the soreness permeating from her abdomen. “But then... Emma, I know this sounds crazy, okay?” Emma wants to tell her nothing can surprise her, but she lets Lily collect her thoughts and waits. “He’s swings his arm back and gets ready to do it again when he flies back, like in those horror movies, you know? His body lifted _off the ground_ , Emma.”

 

Emma’s palms start to sweat as she remembers how Regina vanished not long after her declaration that she needed to stop Lily from leaving and subsequent disappearance. In her gut, she just knows Regina was involved in this, that she saved Lily despite being jealous of her. And if she was the person that saved Lily, was that kosher? Would her... her _husband_ take issue with that?

“Emma, did you hear what I just said?” Lily huffs and reaches out to smack Emma’s bicep. “I know how it sounds but, like, I also know what I saw. I wasn’t _that_ drunk.”

 

Emma exhales, her hands shaking, and just says, “Relax, okay? Let’s just focus on getting you healthy and out of here.”

 

Lily purses her lips but doesn’t push, even though Emma can tell she continues to think about the extraordinary events that kept her alive the night before. And as Emma sits on the cot next to the hospital bed, she can’t help but have a few questions of her own tumbling around in her head.

 

The nurses come by along with the doctor shortly after. Lily has two broken ribs and a stab wound that nicked her lung. Surgery took care of the life-threatening issues, but they still worry about any complications and her ability to breathe.

 

Because of that, Lily ends up staying another night at the hospital to make sure nothing arises, but she shoos Emma out before she can even suggest staying. It’s nearly ten at night when she slips into the driver’s seat of the Bug and winces at the fact that she’s still wearing the stained flannel pajama set Granny got her over five years ago for Christmas. It’s festive, with little bearded Santa’s and reindeer stamped all over the material, which got plenty of chuckles from everyone she encountered, especially since it’s the middle of the summer.

 

She shouldn’t care that she looked a mess, really. She’d been so freaked out by the call from the hospital that she bolted out of the apartment without a second thought and she’s sure the staff are empathetic enough to understand that, but she still feels like an immature oaf, a good-for-nothing.

 

She’s in the middle of glaring at the cartoon Santa on her thigh when a shy _“hello”_ from next to her makes her jump and smack her head against the tin roof. 

 

And of course, it’s the woman she’s been thinking about for nearly twenty-four hours now. Regina looks unsettled and awkward in the passenger seat, like she knows of Emma’s suspicions. Or maybe that’s Emma just projecting? _God_ , she just wants answers, which seems to be her perpetual mood around this woman.

“Regina,” Emma sighs, slightly relieved and partly anxious.

 

“She told you.” Regina states knowingly. Her arms rise up to fold in a defensive stance. Emma’s not sure why she’d feel the need to do so.

 

“She told me... _something_ , yeah. Says the dude that attacked her levitated and was tossed away and knocked out before he could stab her again.” Emma watches Regina carefully as she asks, “You know anything about that?”

 

Regina bites her lip and Emma has to contain her desire to suck on it. “I may.” Emma’s expression softens at that but Regina’s too busy staring through the front windshield to notice and instead tries to justify it. “She’s your... friend. She means something to you. I couldn’t just stand by and... let it happen.”

 

Before Regina can even begin to doubt her decision, Emma’s hand slips into hers and their fingers intertwine. Emma leans over the center console towards her and smiles at Regina’s wide, surprised eyes. “Thank you.”

 

Regina nods, looking supremely stunned for some reason. “Of course, Emma...”

 

She squeezes the hand entwined with hers and presses the tips of her fingers against the back of it. The only sound permeating through the confined space is the rhythmic beating of rain against the windows and Regina’s anxious, heavy breathing. It’s there, in that tiny, rusted car that barely runs, that Emma starts to realize that perhaps Belle, the librarian, was right.

 

She loves this woman, no matter who or what she is, and she’s not sure how their story will end, but she knows she can’t pretend Regina didn’t throw her entire world off its axis the minute Emma laid eyes in her in that prison infirmary.

 

Regina seems to be just as enthralled. Her brown eyes keep darting between Emma’s green ones with purpose. She’s searching for answers just as Emma did in Falso’s hideout. Here and now, though, Emma allows the answers to be clearly visible as she stares back, and Regina’s quiet gasp has her eyes burning.

 

“Yeah,” Emma whispers in reply to the question Regina never verbally posed. The brunette nose scrunches, and her beautiful eyes are suddenly misty, and Emma doesn’t even know why they’re resisting anymore.

 

“Emma, I...” Regina trails off for a moment to sniff and run her fingers under her left eye to wipe away the wetness lingering on her eyelashes. “I never got to tell you everything.”

 

It’s like a bucket of cold water on the moment of intimacy but Emma knows that Regina offering to tell her everything is the biggest show of vulnerability the brunette has to offer. “Yeah,” She mumbles and turns the key in the ignition. “Let me drive us to my place so we can talk in peace.”

 

The drive is quiet, but that’s probably for the best. Something about Regina’s demeanor makes her think another heavy talk is coming and more pertinent information is going to be dropped on her like a ton of bricks.

 

Her theory is ultimately confirmed when they sit on the small couch in Emma’s apartment and Regina’s entire body is rigid against the cushions. She wants to reach over and take her hand, comfort her somehow, but she’s too trapped in her anxiousness to do so.

 

And after several minutes of terse silence pass by, Emma realizes she’ll have to be the one to push them forward.

 

“So,” Emma starts carefully, “you said there’s more to the story?”

 

Regina stares into the empty fireplace absently and nods. “Quite.” The brunette blinks and swallows roughly, her hands wringing together on her lap, and Emma’s fingers twitch, wanting to intertwine those tan hands with her own. Her thoughts cease the moment Regina opens her mouth again. “I told you what my mother and Hades planned, but I never got to tell you what actually happened.”

 

Emma can’t look away from the varying emotions on Regina’s face but doesn’t say anything. She waits patiently.

 

“My mother struck the deal immediately, no questions asked, but my father... he didn’t know how to speak up or fight, but he _was_ extremely resourceful.” Regina chuckles at that, clearly reliving some memories that were joyful, but the loving glow fades from the brunette after only a few seconds. “He found a spell in my mother’s things—“

 

“A spell? Like magic?” Emma gapes.

 

“Indeed,” Regina says carefully. “My mother was a skilled witch. I was a beginner, more of a natural talent, but she always attempted to dissuade me from using it. I suppose she knew wielding magic was my first step towards freedom.”

 

“Is that how you...” Emma gestures with her hand, imitating Regina when she grabbed David’s notebook at the center.

 

“No, no, my magic was taken after...” Regina trails off. Then, “The spell would strip Hades of his immortality.”

 

“So, you could...?” Emma lifts her arm and starts a stabbing motion that makes Regina shake her head out of affection.

 

“Crude, but yes.” Regina’s small affectionate smile drops though. “I had the spell ready, had memorized the incantation, found the item needed to do it, and I almost did it.”

 

“Almost?”

 

“Almost,” Regina confirms with a slow nod. “He sensed the magic the moment he stepped into my chambers. He was _furious_ , so much so that I thought he might smite me right then and there.”

 

“But he still married you?” Emma prompts.

 

“No, Emma. He’s not my husband,” Regina’s eyes slowly slip shut but Emma can’t tell if it’s because of pain or relief. She can’t imagine any outcome that lead to this, to Regina being invisible and miserable, bringing relief though.

 

“I don’t understand,” Emma confesses under her breath and Regina laughs darkly.

 

“He did want to smite me for my _insolence,”_ Regina hisses and Emma can tell it’s the exact word he used. “But he believed himself to be a gift, a treasure, to us mere mortals and thought a marriage with him wouldn’t be a punishment. I did not deserve to be his queen, he said. I remember feeling relieved when he said that. It was naive of me, really, to think he would just let me go.”

 

Emma really doesn’t want to ask another idiotic prompting question, so she waits and waits until Regina jumps up from the couch to pace right in front of it.

 

“I’m going to show you something and I need for you to not freak out,” Regina eventually says, and the slang sounds foreign on her tongue.

 

“Uh,” Emma stutters, “yeah, sure.”

 

And then Regina’s shuffling back, putting space between them, and Emma’s not sure what’s happening but there’s a ball of nervousness lodged between her lungs. The brunette’s staring at her, looking just as anxious, if not more so.

 

The room is dimly lit, only the lamp near the kitchen being on, so she can barely make out some of Regina beautiful features. Her black clothes are fading into the darkness of the room, but those brown eyes are shining with enough tears to be seen through the dusk.

 

Regina’s spine tenses and her shoulders arch forward, and there’s a whoosh of air that makes Emma’s eyes close on instinct. But when she blinks them open, she nearly shoots off the couch.

 

Because there’s _wings_. There’s _black_ _wings_ on _Regina’s back_ , fanned out across the length of the room majestically, and Emma almost reaches up to rub at her eyes but refrains because she can’t stop looking. She _can’t_ stop, because _holy shit._ Despite her absolute shock— because _god, had those always been there?—_ she actually lets herself really look at the breathtaking image in front of her.

 

Regina’s soft pink lips and round, wet brown eyes, and a curvaceous body encased in tight black leggings, boots, and blouse, and expansive black feathered wings that look so delicate compared to the bony skeletal frame that lines the top to surely connect with Regina’s shoulder blades.

 

The wings flutter under her attention, which makes her dart her eyes back up to lock with Regina’s. Emma whispers a breathy _“you have wings”_ then realizes how dumb that sounds, because _obviously, Emma._ She clears her throat and clarifies, “Why do you have wings?”

 

Regina’s shoulder fall in relief and Emma wonders what she was expecting from this reveal. She’s shocked, of course. She’s in awe, understandably. But she’s not going to run, not anymore. Regina has managed to make Emma Swan want to run _towards_ someone. Neither a devilish husband, the title of queen of hell, nor a pair of wings could send her packing at this point.

 

“I watched as Daniel died in my arms, unable to stop it. To watch the life drain from someone’s eyes and know I‘m too late... it became my greatest nightmare.” Regina’s left hand balls into a fist around the silky material of her blouse as the other flexes against her thigh. “So, Hades made my nightmare a reality.”

 

Regina’s wings start to curl inward, creating a semi-cocoon around the brunette, like a shield. Regina steps forward, the light of the lamp illuminating her just a bit more, and continues, “Some call me Azrael, or Psychopomp, or Santa Muerte, but you would probably call me—“

 

 _“The angel of death,”_ Emma gasps, choking on the last word.

 

Azrael was a name she heard too many times to count when she was fostered by a kind Jewish family during her early teen years. She’s seen the portraits of the angel but damn, no one has done the true figure any justice. Regina Mills— _the angel of death_ —was beauty personified with a heart of gold, even if it weighed heavily with misdeeds.

“Emma?” Regina whispers and Emma startles out of her stupor to see the brunette kneeled right in front of her. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m... stunned.” When Regina’s frown deepens, she quickly clarifies, “I’m not afraid or anything, just... _wow_.” Emma thinks back and suddenly everything makes sense. “You knew Falso was dead because—“

 

“I escorted his soul to the underworld. I didn’t kill him.” Regina swallows roughly. “Those men in the woods though... I took their bodies and souls. Hades was surprisingly proud, which disgusted me. Making him proud was the last thing I wanted, but I can’t regret it.”

 

The _because it saved your life_ goes unsaid.

Emma jolts as another realization comes. “The prison. The doctors said I would’ve died if the nurses didn’t realize something was wrong.”

 

Regina’s eyes slip shut harshly, and she bites her bottom lip as a wave of pain coats the brunette’s expression. “I was supposed to collect you,” Regina says softly, “but I couldn’t. You _saw_ me, Emma. No mortal has seen me in millennia and I couldn’t let you go.”

 

“I... I was supposed to die?” Emma asks, her hands shaking.

 

“Yes.” Regina replies solemnly.

 

“And Lily?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“ _God_ ,” Emma breathes. Suddenly the air in the room feels heavy and she can’t catch her breath. “Shit. _Fuck_.”

“Hades doesn’t know that I’ve saved you two. If he did...” Regina’s fingers fall to the couch cushion by Emma’s thighs and twitch against the fabric. “He keeps my father in a shack in the underworld, once threatened to send him to the deepest pit of hell if I stepped out of line or didn’t fulfill my duties, but I couldn’t lose you, and I couldn’t let you lose Lily.”

 

Emma grabs at Regina’s hand as her gaze falls on the small, but still raw, wound by Regina’s hairline. She lifts her free hand and lets the tip of her pointer finger graze the cut softly. “He did this to you?”

 

Regina nods. “He started to notice how happy I seemed when I returned. It angered him. He’d beat me, hurt my father, anything and everything he could think of. I started to worry he’d spy on me. So, I stopped coming as much. It’s no excuse but—“

 

“You were trying to keep us all safe...” Emma’s fingers slip between Regina’s to squeeze. She has this urge to just lean forward and kiss every segment of the angel’s skin. She wants to run her lips over her forehead and cheeks and nose and mouth and neck, and _god_ she wants it so badly. She’s wanted her for so long now that this wait is starting to feel torturous.

 

Regina’s wings flap slightly in, what Emma guesses, is relief. The whoosh of air that causes nearly sends the side table Archie got her off its legs and Emma has to laugh at Regina’s wince. This woman has apparently been an angel for millennia but still can’t control her own wings.

 

As the laughter dies down, another urge crops up and Emma finds herself following through on it. She slowly reaches forward with her free hand, watching Regina’s expression as she does, and hovers her spread fingers over the skeletal curve of the left wing. When Regina nods with a slightly awed smile, Emma closes the distance and runs her hand along the curve, sighing at the soft, silkiness of the feathers brushing against her skin.

 

They’re as lovely as she suspected, and she lets her hand roam over every inch she can reach. She’s entranced by the whole experience that she doesn’t notice Regina’s breathing become heavy and rapid until Regina’s free hand glides up her thigh and inwards to scratch at the seam of her jeans, just inches away from her core.

 

Emma jumps, her head darting to link their gazes, and she gasps at the overwhelming lust she sees there. Regina got _turned on_ by her little exploration. Her heart jolts in her chest and her cheeks and neck flush, but she can’t stop. She can’t stop running her hand over the delicate feathers and she doesn’t want to stop Regina’s hand from inching upward and taking their relationship to another level. But she has to.

 

Her hand drops from the wing to grip Regina’s wandering one, a smirk plastered firmly on her lips. “As much as I want to—because _fuck_ , Regina, I do—I _don’t_ want to rush things. I don’t know how this’ll work. You’re the angel of death and I’m... me, and no one can see you except for me and apparently the dead and the gods—does the big man upstairs care about the whole gay thing, by the way?—but... I can’t stay away either, alright?”

 

Regina luckily doesn’t seem offended or rejected. In fact, the brunette’s lust visibly fades to affection. “You ramble. It’s cute.”

 

“Regina...”

 

The brunette smiles shyly, her eyes twinkling with something deep and scary, yet Emma wants to jump into it headfirst. Regina leans forward and her wings curve to encase them in an intimate cocoon. With just the two of them, their noses grazing, Regina whispers, “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I think I’m in love with you, Emma Swan.”

 

Her heart jolts and sings and zings, and everything else those cheesy romance novels describe, and Emma can’t stop the burning behind her eyes if she tried. Because someone she loves, loves her. Someone she loves that loves her has saved her life several times, and protected her and her wellbeing for years, and given her a safe space. It’s almost unbelievable, and she’d wallow in that if Regina’s expression wasn’t turning anxious at her extended silence.

 

Because she’s never been good at saying those words, Emma says, “For you? I think I am too.” She’d hate that it rhymed if it didn’t make the brunette chuckle and smile in that way that brightens the whole room. 

 

“There was a prophecy,” Regina says, still smiling, even if slightly muted from before. “Not long after I became _this_ , I went to see a witch and asked how to end this curse. She told me I’d have a Savior, my true love, that would break my curse with True Loves kiss and allow me to be mortal once more. She did say I’d have to be patient, but I started to loss hope. Then you smiled at me in a prison infirmary and said I was pretty in your drug induced haze.” Regina titters, her voice calm and light, and Emma feels so much emotion flowing in her veins. She reaches up to cup Regina’s neck, her thumb grazing the warm skin. “You gave me hope that day and I knew I couldn’t let you go, not when you could be it. The Savior. _My Savior_.”

 

Emma’s already leaning in, ready to kiss her and try to give her love her life back, but Regina pulls back and away, standing up in the process. She looks down and must see the pain on Emma’s face and she’s quick to explain, “Not yet, darling. I need to free my father and help him move on. I suspect once we do kiss, I won’t be able to enter the underworld anymore, so I have to make things right for him.”

 

“Yeah, okay.” Emma tries to stifle a yawn but Regina chuckles at her as her face contorts under the effort.

 

“Go to bed, Emma. I’ll be back soon,” Regina’s wings fold inward and disappear behind her back, “and hopefully, I’ll be able to finally feel your lips against mine, my love.”

 

Emma is only able to smile before her eyes drift shut and she falls asleep.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a bit longer to update, school and work have been intense. Plus, I kind of struggled writing this chapter, I'm not sure why! But the chapter is here! I did a poll on my Twitter account (@SwanQueenSwen) and the majority voted for a chapter from Regina's point of view, so we're heading to the Underworld! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Humans have tried depicting her home in differing ways, with varying mediums, but they never quite capture the misery that permeates the realm she’s been relegated to. She thinks about this every single time she flies down from the portal opening high above the landscape that forms the first layer of Hell, where Hades built his dark castle and forced her to live. 

 

There’s no fire on this circle of hell, many would be shocked to hear. Though Dante described it perfectly when labeling this circle as  _Limbo,_  as that’s what her life has become. She’s not dead but she’s not truly alive, and she has— _had_  no prospects for changing that. She thinks of blonde hair and green eyes and smiles, because now she does.

 

As she soars over the bustling streets of Limbo and hears the loud chattering of intellectuals discussing whatever philosophical dilemma they’ve decided to unravel, she huffs at the heat. There may not be fire, but it’s humid, so much so that her hair at times frizzes and her back sweats if she sticks around for too long, but there’s no flames or fiery damnation. Not here. This level, her home for thousands of years, looks like a medieval city with black brick walk ways and an imposing castle casting a shadow across the land. 

 

She peers over at her father’s small cottage, which sits on castle grounds, and waits, knowing he always sticks his head out of the window to greet her whenever he hears the portal crack open. When she sees his greying hair and waving hands, she waves back excitedly. Even in the dire situation they find themselves, she’s simply grateful to be able to see and hug him every day. Her mother— _luckily_ , she thinks bitterly—landed in Fraud, the eighth circle of hell, once she was killed by an uprising in the kingdom she gained after selling her daughter, and husband as collateral, to Hades. 

 

“Regina, you’re finally home!” Henry calls out to her as she slowly lands on his stoop. When his arms wrap around her and stay fastened there for much too long, she doesn’t fight it. Time in the Underworld is slow, so what felt like hours apart to Regina was truly days for her father. “I was starting to worry again.” 

 

She winces at that. When she started to spend a lot of time with Emma in the Land Without Magic, her father was left in the dark on her whereabouts and safety for what felt like weeks to him. She can’t bring herself to regret it though. Emma Swan could be their ticket out of the Underworld and into a new, love-filled life.

 

“I’m sorry, daddy. You know how it gets during the summer in the living realms.” She replies quickly and tries to back away to head into the cottage, but her father’s quirked brow freezes her in place. He flicks her wing playfully, making them reflexively flap. 

 

“You’ve been doing this for thousands of years. I do indeed know how hectic the summer months are, which means I know that you’ve been spending more time than usual away from home. Something is going on.” Henry seems amused and the part of Regina that isn’t nervous or annoyed by the line of question is happy to see a smile on his face. 

 

Before Hades, Henry smiled nearly all the time. He loved horses, and the autumn weather, and his daughter, and he smiled whenever she entered a room. He smiled when he woke up, when he went to sleep, despite his wife being the devil incarnate, so to speak. But his time in the Underworld has made him weary, tired, and too anxious to feel much joy. 

 

She’s debating her answer when a familiar voice pipes up from beside them. “Yes, please spill the beans, Gina! I’m  _dying_  to hear the answer.” 

 

Regina swivels and glares at the slim man smirking at her. “Hades...  _lovely_  to see you.”” Her father automatically takes a step back, still much too fearful of the man even after millennia of dealing with him. 

 

Hades grins and waves off her sarcasm before turning to stare menacingly at her Henry, who couldn’t meet his dark gaze if he tried. As much as she loves him, her father was, and always will be, a coward. The perpetually young devil swats his hand down onto Henry’s shoulder and shakes him roughly, as if they’re friends. “How’s it hanging, Henry?”

 

“F—Fine, sir. Lovely day, isn’t it?” He stutters. Regina suppresses a groan at his meekness. Hades seems to be overjoyed by it.  _The bastard._

 

“Is there something you wanted, Hades?” Regina sighs, exasperated. She just had a euphoric night with Emma and to come back to this is Almost earth shatteringly depressing. 

 

Hades locks his stare on her and smooths out his suit jacket over his abdomen. His eyebrow lifts. “Do I need a reason? Last I checked,” He leans in and flicks her nose, “I  _own_  you.”

 

_Don’t sucker punch him, Don’t sucker punch him, don’t—_

 

“Regina, why don’t you come in? We can drink some tea and catch up?” Her father mumbles in an attempt to diffuse the increasing tension between his daughter and the man she almost married. 

 

Regina opens her mouth to accept her father’s offer when Hades pushes past both of them and kicks open the door to her father’s cottage with the toe of his shoe as he says, “I’d love me some tea, thanks for offering,  _Enrique_.”

 

Regina shoots her father an apologetic look but Henry’s quick to grab her hand and squeeze affectionately. It’s a constant game of pass the guilt with them. He feels guilty that his plan to kill Hades is what lead to their situation and Regina feels guilty for getting caught and dragging her father down with her. Perhaps it’s how they truly feel or perhaps it’s the Underworld exacerbating it. They could never really know. 

 

His cottage is small but cozy, much nicer than anything the other inhabitants have in Limbo. He’s been able to decorate it how he sees fit—with Regina’s powers to aid him, of course. She also brings him little knick-knacks from around the realms, so he could add to his collection on the bookshelf he managed to build from loose stones he found around Limbo. He’s managed to build a home in hell, and Hades does not belong inside. That despicable man has no right...except he has every right and he knows it. 

 

Regina wants to growl as she steps into the cottage and notices how he stares at the small, painted doll on her father’s bookshelf that she collected for him in The Enchanted Forest. She can see the disdain, his true hatred for humans, in his gaze and she shivers. She’s spent so long escorting the most despicable people to heaven and hell alike and knows better than anyone how imperfect and impulse humans can be, but they’re also capable of so much love and growth, and she can’t find it in her to dislike them. 

 

It’s then that she sees him eyeing a metallic pen holder shaped like the large, pointy building where Emma resides. As Henry disappears into the kitchen to make their tea, Hades harrumphs and lifts the metal into his palm. “New York state of mind,” He murmurs under his breath, dark and angry, and Regina unconsciously takes a step back to lean on the small table set up in the corner of the living room. 

 

The creak of the floorboards snag his attention. His menacing gaze, that hard glint in his eyes, stays glued to her as he carelessly tosses the knick-knack back onto the bookshelf. 

 

She swallows roughly and looks away as she awkwardly asks, “So, how have things been in Limbo since I left?” 

 

“In  _limbo_ ,” he sneers through his thin lips. “A bit boring here without souls to sort. You’ve been gone a while yet,” He gestures around the room symbolically, “no new souls, which is quite disappointing, if you ask me.” He steps closer until he’s almost nose to nose with her. “Anything I should know about,  _angel?”_

 

She takes a step back and startles when her ass hits the table edge. Hades leans his palms on it and traps her against the wood, and she tries her hardest to not appear intimidated. She says, “I can’t collect souls with unfinished business, you know this. A lot of fiends are wallowing around on earth in ghostly forms and I can’t do anything about that. Besides, I just brought you the group of men not too long ago—“

 

“And now I want  _more,_ ”Hades growls. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve been up when my back is turned but let me tell you something, Regina. If you cross me again like you did all those centuries ago, I will make your existence a living nightmare. You understand?” 

 

A ringing silence falls over them as they glare at each other intensely, ignoring the steaming kettle whistling in the other room. She wants to scream, to yell, to tell him he doesn’t own her, but she can’t, not if she wants to save her father and get back to Emma.

 

So, through gritted teeth, she says, “You don’t have to threaten me.”

 

“I don’t  _have_  to do anything,” Hades chuckles under his breath. His anger is so quiet in the already silent room and it’s somehow more eerie and terrifying than when they’re alone in the castle and his knuckles turn bloody. He licks his smiling lips and shakes his head. “I just like to remind you that it’s my thumb you’re under, that you are powerless here, in my realm and in any other, because I own you. It really,” He leans in to press his nose against her hair and hover his lips over her ear, “gets me going.” 

 

She turns her face away and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from flinching. He smells like ash and it clogs her nostrils, and his breath is so hot and unwelcome on her neck. It’s then that Henry comes back from the kitchen with a teapot cradled in left hand while three teacups dangle from his right. His wrinkled face is expressionless, but she knows he heard the tail end of their conversation because the teacups are clinking repeatedly as his hand tremors. 

 

Hades pulls back to smirk at him and Regina barely contains her sigh of relief when he does. She steps to the side, putting enough space between them so she can finally breathe. She stands by the bookshelf and watches as her father drops the teapot and cups on the table to pull out a chair for Hades, who drops onto it and plops his feet on the table, right next to the fine china. 

 

It’s a gross show of power and she wishes she could swipe his legs off the carved wooden table Regina got him from their homeland, but she doesn’t, and she can’t. At times, her snark and sass has gotten her bruises and blood, and Henry had pleaded with her to give it a rest. If only she wasn’t so angry, then perhaps she could do right by him for once. Alas, Hades brings out the darkness in her. She’s tried to fight it for so long, but this place has seeped into her bones. 

 

With Emma, she manages to suppress it somewhat, even going so far as to appear meek, shy, or quiet. But when Emma saw her anger that night in the woods, she didn’t run or cower, and Regina’s not sure how to act half the time. Truthfully, she doesn’t even know who she is anymore. Being the Angel of Death, a captive, has trumped everything else. She can barely remember who she was before all of this. 

 

But with Emma? She remembers it all clearly. With Emma, she’s free, and that seems like a wonderful place to start, she thinks.

 

Which is why she has to play her cards right. Hades can never know about the blonde that’s given her hope and could quite possibly break the curse that gave her wings and tethered her to hell, and the dark hearted man would rather destroy the realms than allow Regina to be free, of that she is sure. 

 

The sound of the chair legs scraping against the wood floor startles her from her thoughts. She looks up to see Hades’ left foot wrapped around one leg of the chair to kick it toward her. It slides a few feet and she sticks out her hand to grip the top. She takes the hint and sits, scooting closer to her father inconspicuously. 

 

“So,” Hades smirks, his tongue roaming over his bright white teeth, “How’s New York treating you these days, Regina?”

 

She tenses, because he doesn’t just ask something without a reason and this question is hitting a little too close for comfort. She tries to nod, though she’s sure it looks more like a twitch. “Fine, I suppose.” 

 

“New York?” Her father questions. Even after all this time, he’s still amazed there’s so many different realms with their own histories and cultures. 

 

“It’s in the Land Without Magic, daddy. A city, almost like the Emerald City in Oz, though not as beautiful by any stretch.” She explains and smiles at his awed expression.

 

Hades fakes a snore. “Yeah, yeah, a whole new world and all that jazz. You two are a little too sweet for me.” 

 

“Well, you don’t  _have_  to be here _,_ ” slips out of her mouth before she can censor it. Hades seems to find it funny though, as he chuckles under his breath then bites his lip as he stares at her. His eyes—surprisingly—hold no malice. It’s moments like this when she wonders what his true feelings towards her are. 

 

Not that it matters. He’s her captor, torturer, and abuser, and she’s fairly certain his heart is as black as a piece of coal. 

 

“Regina!” Her father hisses under his breathe, as if scolding a child for bad manners, and Regina has to bite her tongue. Hades’ eyes never leave hers though and if he notices her frustration, he doesn’t let on. He’s so unpredictable that way. 

 

A tense silence falls over them as Henry nervously pours some tea into each cup. The scalding liquid drips down the sides each time his fingers shake and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep from snatching the teapot from him. She adores him, she truly does, but he gives Hades exactly what he wants: fear. 

 

“So, New York,” Hades repeats. Apparently that subject isn’t being dropped. Regina’s stomach turns as she wonders why he’s fixated on that state. If he truly has been spying on her, she’ll have no wiggle room and will have to fight and claw her way out instead of meticulously planning and preparing for an effective exit strategy. “How about I cut to the chase, huh?” Hades smoothes back his grey hair and leans back in his chair to fold his arms across his chest. “Lilian Ficent.”

 

 _Oh_. Regina’s eyes slip shut knowingly, a grimace on her lips. Henry stares at his shoes, knowing how this will end and dreading the buildup. 

 

Hades nods and clicks his tongue. “Well, there’s my answer. Didn’t even have to torture it out of you.”

 

“I—“

 

“Stop talking!” Hades growls, “She was supposed to be mine! She was already mine the moment she shot that king pin boyfriend of hers in the head.  _Violence_  is where she belongs, not some cozy hospital in  _New York_.” 

 

“She doesn’t belong here,” Regina whispers heatedly. 

 

“That isn’t for you to decide!” Hades bellies and his fists come down on the table so hard that the wooden table cracks on the edge. The vibrations tip over the teacups and send hot tea everywhere. His eyes flash red and his voice deepens frighteningly, “She is mine!” 

 

Regina flinches. “He was a horrible man—“

 

“And she’s a murderer.” Hades stands, his arms propped on the table, and leans in until they’re practically nose to nose again. He snatched her wrist and holds it so tight she knows it’ll bruise. “Do that again and I’ll make good on my promise,” He says and makes sure his eyes dart to Henry so there’s no mistaking what he’s referring to. 

 

With a wave of his hand, flames swirl around his body and travel up, up, up until they encase him completely. A gust of wind blows across the room, making their eyes slam shut, and when they open, he’s gone. Henry immediately jumps out of his chair to wrap his arms around his stunned daughter. 

 

“Regina, it’s alright,” He soothes. “He’s a lot of bark and hardly any bite.”

 

It’s a lie. They both know it. 

 

“Daddy,” She pulls him close and wraps her arms around him. To an outsider, it’d look like an embrace for comfort, but Regina’s used to Hades’ outbursts and doesn’t need her father to hold her hand through everything, not since the night Hades took them. She presses her lips to his ear and whispers, “I found the Savior— _my Savior._ She can break our curse.”

 

She feels him tense and squeezes her arms tighter. It’s not the first time Regina has claimed to find a way to unbind him from the Underworld and she knows he’s become a skeptic, believing he’ll be trapped in hell for an eternity. 

 

“ _Mija,”_ He whispers against her neck with slight exasperation, “Isn’t it time we let go of those delusions?” 

 

“Listen to me!” She hisses. “I found my Savior and with True Love’s kiss, I’ll be freed from this curse, and I think I’ve finally found a way to unbind your body and soul from this realm. A transfer spell. We can transfer the binding from you to  _him_ , Daddy.”

 

Henry’s fingers curl into her back and his shoulders shake—maybe it’s a jolt of surprise because he replies with an inordinate amount of awe. “ _My god._ ” 

 

“A witch in Oz tried to gift me her spell book in exchange for her life. I went back to her hovel once I escorted her soul here and found the spell on one of the dog-eared pages. It’s used for an array of things, but it works on curses as well. If we can find the ingredients, we can transfer the binding to him. Then we’d have to escape, of course, but we can do that, right?”

 

“Right...” Henry says, quiet and unsure, and Regina can’t help but think he’s expecting the worse. 

 

She can’t bring herself to imagine what the worst could be.

 

* * *

 

The ingredients take a while to acquire. The mermaids tongue takes the longest and requires a bit of wrangling. The rest—pinky toe of a giant, a leaf of gold, scale of a dragon, and a generic potion base—aren’t difficult to find but she has to wait until she’s called to the realms where each item is common since random traveling would spark suspicion. 

 

She sees Emma only twice during that time but makes sure to explain why. She’s done keeping secrets. The blonde seemed excited at the prospect of having an actually-visible-to-everyone Regina around all the time and the brunette couldn’t help but absorb that positive energy. 

 

Plus, the mere thought of Emma’s slim fingers slipping into her is enough to make her wings flap faster as she chased down the ingredients. So, that sped up the process a bit. The sexual aspect of their relationship has been on her mind. When she became the  _Angel of Death_  at age twenty _,_ she hadn’t been a virgin by any stretch. She and Daniel had made love several times before his death, but it was always sweet and slow, and never lasted long due to his inexperience. 

 

She wouldn’t trade that for the world, but her hunger for Emma is unparalleled. The blondes experience makes her heart jolt with excitement. It’s been thousands upon thousands of years since she was touched with lustful intentions and she knows Emma Swan will do things to her—with her—that’ll make her toes curl in that way her childhood friend, Marian, described to her once as rebellious teens. 

 

With the potion made and hidden under a loose floorboard in bed father’s cottage, Regina starts to strategize their escape. Getting Hades to drink the potion at the same time as her father is simple, but once the deed is done, they’ll have to escape hell, so Hades won’t be able to reach them. 

 

Father and daughter are sitting side by side on the silky fur rug in front of the heated fireplace in her father’s home as they discuss options. 

 

“I could make a separate potion that paralyzes him, but it would only hold him for a minute or so. I’m not sure if that’s be enough time for us to fly up to the portal opening.” Regina murmurs quietly. The crackling of the fire almost drowns her out. 

 

Henry’s sitting silently next to her, his eyes staring into the flames as he gets lost in his thoughts. Regina’s nudging elbow brings him back to the conversation at hand and he shrugs. “I’m sorry,  _mija_. This magic thing is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to me, you know that.”

 

“You’re the one that found the spell in mothers’ things,” She reminds him. “You’re quite capable. So, what’s the matter?”

 

“I’m just thinking that perhaps...” He takes a deep breath in then exhales a weary, “perhaps I can be a diversion and you can escape.”

 

Regina jolts, angry at the mere suggestion. “What?! No! The whole point of this is to get us both out of here.” She shakes her head. “No. We’ll find a way.” 

 

Henry doesn’t seem convinced. Regina can’t admit she isn’t either. 

 

* * *

 

One of the hardest things Regina’s had to endure is not being able to kiss Emma Swan whenever the mood strikes. Like now. 

 

Emma’s cooking dinner with some slow-paced music playing in the background as she stirs a sauce. Her swaying hips are mesmerizing and there’s a stain of red on the corner of her lip from when she tasted the concoction she’s been stirring and adding to for ten minutes. She wants to drag her tongue over the splotch and run her hands over those muscular hips, but she can’t, at least not yet, and it’s killing her. 

 

She wants the intimacy she’s been missing for thousands of years but she can’t have it just yet. Luckily, the emotional intimacy tides her over fairly well. 

 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” is the teasing remark that snaps her attention back to the blonde, who’s turned towards her and is smirking like she knows the affect she has on the brunette. 

 

Regina smiles through her confusion. “A picture?” She peers over at the new frames Emma hung on her apartment wall the day before and jerks her head toward them. “Like those?”

 

Emma just laughs, and Regina enjoys the sound too much to feel offended. 

 

The blonde sits them in front of the fireplace that doesn’t work and places a few lit candles on the hearth to give a romantic lighting to the dim room. It’s adorable and makes Emma’s skin seem sun kissed and smooth, and she wants to run her fingers over every inch. Her body is hungry for the blonde in a way it never was before her. 

 

A hand enters her sight and the finger snap. A chuckle flutters past the shell of her ear. “You’re so distracted tonight...” She turns to see Emma’s worried green eyes darting across her face. “What’s up?”

 

“I’m sorry,” She bites her lip. “I don’t mean to ruin this... date?” 

 

“Yeah,” Emma smiles fondly, “this is a date. Uh, courting, I guess is what you’d know it as.” 

 

“You’ve been watching those knight films, haven’t you?” 

 

“Maybe, but that’s not important.” Emma nudges her shoulder and bats those eyes at her, and she can’t resist the urge to open up.

 

“It’s my father. I think he’s given up.” She doesn’t elaborate but she knows Emma understands what she’s talking about, which is good because she still doesn’t believe Hades isn’t spying on her at times. “And I’m running low on hope myself.” 

 

Emma smiles now, bright and goofy in that way only she can pull off. “You had no hope of getting out of this at all until we met. I believe in you, Regina. You’ll find a way.”

 

And under the candlelight in Emma’s small apartment, she starts to think she can too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, my Supernova story, “you burn brighter than the sun (and I’m coming undone)”, has been released! It’s my longest fic yet at just over 103k words, so check it out if you can!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to let you guys know that my Supernova fic was released not too long ago! "You burn brighter than the sun (and I'm coming undone)" is my longest yet so check it out if you enjoy my stuff! Thank you! And I hope you enjoy this chapter as well :)

“Never have I ever...” Emma scrunches her brow in thought then snaps as she finishes with, “ridden a horse.”

 

Regina scoffs, “That’s just unfair, Swan.” She reaches for her left sock and pulls at the end until the black material slips off her foot. Emma groans at her choice, making the brunette smirk. “You never specified which clothing items were in play, dear.” 

 

“I’m shirtless right now. How is  _this_  fair?” Emma whines. Regina quirks a brow and peers at her innocently over her shoulder.

 

“Whose fault is that? You’re the one that suggested this game.” 

 

And Emma can’t even begin to whine about fairness when she’s topless, her torso clad in only a padded bra, and Regina’s expected to behave. Their second date, as Emma continues to call it, was a surprise, which is difficult to do since Regina’s only been able to appear in New York so infrequently to keep Hades from becoming too suspicious, even though she’s fairly sure he hasn’t been watching. He would’ve dropped threatening hints at some point if he did. Instead, he’s just seemed frustrated about it all. 

 

Still, she was cautious, which made planning a date a bit of a hassle. That didn’t deter Emma Swan, however.

 

“I’ve had everything ready. Just had to wait for you to show,” Emma had said when she appeared in her apartment around dinner time that night. 

 

She packed Regina and a basket filled with goodies into the metal coffin on wheels and drove until Regina grew tired of staring at rapidly passing tree line. It was worth it though. The lagoon Emma found as a runaway teen is simply magnificent and reminds Regina of Lake Nostos at its prime in the Enchanted Forest. It’s also the perfect backdrop to their night out. 

 

The Bug is parked under a willow tree, facing the dark lagoon, twinkling fireflies, and the faint sound of frogs and crickets going about their nightly routine past the bright haze of the headlights. It’s the closest she’s come to finding an Enchanted Forest in The Land Without Magic.

 

“Your turn,” Emma says as her elbow nudges into Regina’s side. The brunette just shoves the elbow away playfully. 

 

Because only Emma Swan would find immense enjoyment in a juvenile game she tainted with stripping instead of drinking. It’s quite probably the worst idea she’s allowed Emma to talk her into considering she can’t stop staring at Emma’s distended nipples poking through the padding of her flesh colored bra. If the blonde’s smirk is anything to go by, she enjoys torturing Regina this way. 

 

“Never have I ever stolen a carriage.” Regina smirks when she hears Emma squawk of indignation. “That’s retribution for your last turn.”

 

Emma snorts, “Well, I hate to break it to you, your highness, but this trusty Bug ain’t no carriage. She’s a lean, mean gas-guzzling machine—a  _car_. So, I’m keeping my socks, thank you very much.” 

 

Despite being played with a loophole in her wording, there’s a giant smile on her lips. Even the most outlandish of Emma’s quirks tugs at her heart strings. It’s sickening, really, how much of a lovesick fool she is now. 

 

“Never have I ever...” Emma hums as she purses her lips contemplatively then smirks suddenly to tack on, “had sex in public.” 

 

Regina flushes bright red and reaches down to slip off her other sock, and Emma goes wide eyed. She tosses the sock onto the car hood, next to Emma’s forgotten blouse, and chuckles quietly. “Daniel lived in the stables. He never wanted to be intimate there, said it wasn’t romantic enough, and my home wasn’t an option with my mother lurking about, so we’d find isolated gardens or clearings in the nearby forest. It doesn’t sound romantic, but it was. He made it so.” 

 

Emma’s lips quirk up for a split second despite the obvious jealous that still lingers around their previous lovers. Regina had to continuously scold herself when Lily temporarily moved into Emma’s apartment when she was released from the hospital. She trusts Emma, and she knows her fear of losing the blonde to Lily is irrational, so she tried to swallow the bitterness she felt at the situation. Truthfully, she spent most of that month and a half period looking for the ingredients in hopes that it’d take her mind off of the brunette occupying Emma’s bed. At least the blonde turned down Lily’s offer to share the queen-sized mattress and slept on the comfortable couch instead. 

 

To erase the sudden awkwardness, Regina jumps into her turn. “Never have I ever...” She stares at the calm blue water of the lagoon and finishes with, “skinny dipped.” 

 

Emma snorts and eyes the lagoon mirthfully. She reaches down to remove her own sock, a bright neon yellow with black duck silhouettes plastered all over. Her heart had constricted at the childish article of clothing when Emma removed her shoes before hopping onto the hood of the Bug after she ate her strawberries with chocolate. 

 

The blonde is in her mid-twenties but most of her quirks and mannerisms are child-like, as if she’s extending the youthfulness until she can experience the good it has to offer. It’s endearing, but it also makes her blood boil, because this woman is unique and special, but she was seemingly disposable to the people tasked with caring for her. Not that she was surprised by Emma’s story. The human world, especially the Land Without Magic, is a mess, full of contradictions and harsh realities. It reminds her so much of hell. It’s almost eerie at times. 

 

“You’re knocking my socks off here, babe.” Emma flings her sock onto the metal car hood and laughs over the cricket chirps. 

 

“As if that’s hard to do.” Regina teases, though there’s so much truth in the statement. Emma’s obviously just as affected by her as she is by Emma. 

 

“You have no room to talk there, hot stuff.” Emma replies knowingly, and Regina doesn’t bother fighting her blush. As she fights her goofy grin, Emma’s expression turns a bit serious as she lets her eyes roam over Regina’s lips. She says, “God, I just want to kiss you all the time.”

 

Regina’s smile doesn’t wane as she replies, “I know, and I do too.” Her wings slowly extend out. Her left one wraps around Emma’s shoulder and nudges until the blonde is sliding across the hood of the car to press into Regina’s side. She lifts her chilled hand and cups Emma’s cheek, her thumb caressing the sensitive skin there. Her wings flutter jovially when Emma laughs because of the feathers tickling her neck. 

 

This moment—being with Emma—it’s the furthest from hell she’s ever been, and she soaks up the light in the hopes it’ll brighten a part of her she thought she lost. 

 

And the thought that this could be her new normal? It makes her heart race in the best way. 

 

“Never have I ever loved someone as much as I love you.” Regina mumbles softly against Emma’s cheek. She feels the blonde shiver. 

 

Emma doesn’t move a muscle, just whispers back, “Finally... something I can relate to.” 

 

* * *

 

When she finds the trap enchantment, she nearly loses her balance. She spent weeks trying to think of a way to get her father out of the underworld and bind Hades to it, and she’d come up short. Until now. 

 

During her visit to Oz, she saw a red-headed witch with ghastly green skin walking down the yellow brick road, yelling at her minion about a lost spell book. In her curiosity, Regina followed the witch to her home, where she found an array of spell books lined up in a bookshelf. The woman didn’t see her, of course, and she spent hours combing through the pages while the witch paced across the rooms, muttering about a true love that’s unreachable.

 

It’s been hours since she entered the home, the night time coming quickly in the realm and sending the witch to bed an hour or two ago. And there, in a large red book with intricate metal accents, she finally comes across a spell that could change the tide for her father. With the right timing, Regina could trap Hades in a space she lines with salt long enough for Henry to drink the potion, transfer the binding to Hades, and get to the portal hovering over Limbo.

 

Her father then suggests a magical bean that would open a portal near them and give them a quicker escape. It’s the best idea they’ve had, truthfully, and she spends a few days tracking it down. Beans have become much harder to obtain since she was... living. It takes her a few visits to the Enchanted Forest before she comes across giants and their high-rise beanstalk. She manages to snag a bean and get out before they notice their stock has been tampered with. 

 

It’s a lot to hide, she finds. There’s a spell with the binding transfer, a bean in a small bag with a zip cord, a carton of salt, and a blood red potion. It all gets stuffed into a black pillowcase and tucked under her cloaks in the dresser. The magic vibrating off the items is minimal. She barely feels the buzz when she slams the dresser drawer closed, so if Hades just steers clear of the far corner of her room, she should be fine. If he doesn’t already have an inkling, of course, which is always a possibility. In fact, this whole scheme is eerily reminiscent of the events that got them trapped in hell. 

 

“ _Mija_ , _”_ Henry sighs, his back against the wooden cottage wall across from the couch where Regina’s lounging. “We need to do this soon. He keeps coming around here, more than he ever has before. He must sense something.” 

 

A part of Regina wants to roll her eyes, because, honestly, her father is a coward that’s fearful of his own shadow, but the other part of her is just as worried. Hades has been keeping a closer eye on them since the Lily incident. Not only is she worried that Hades may head to The Land Without Magic to take back the life he believes is his to have, but she’s also worried that he’s privy to Emma. 

 

She knows that he wouldn’t truly be aware of Emma since the blonde was considered good and would’ve been escorted to Elysium **,** the heavenly afterlife, but nothing about her fears are necessarily rational. Hades almost never travels out of hell. Here, he has power and strength. When he steps out of this place, he loses some of his power and can be countered by much more virile gods. 

 

“Daddy, he loves to strike fear in people and you...” Regina trails off, knowing her intent is heard when a wounded expression appears on her father’s face. She looks away and stares at a stain on the wood floor by Henry’s fee. “We have everything we need. Now we just wait for the opportunity to present itself. I lined the cottage with salt, so the next time he comes in with both of us here, we’ll do it, alright? Don’t worry. I will get you out of here.”

 

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” He spits out. His tone is the most confident she’s ever heard from him and it makes her spine straighten. “You are my everything, don’t you see that? I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for  _you—_ No _,_ I’m  _terrified_  for you,  _mija_. I could spend an eternity in the deepest depths of hell as long as I knew you’d be safe from him.”

 

Regina’s eyes burn and tears well up, obscuring her vision. She can’t even see his determined gaze and hard frown. “Don’t talk like that, daddy. Please.” 

 

“When they put you in my arms, I knew I would protect you no matter what. I didn’t always do that, I know that. I didn’t... I was a coward with your mother. I just...” Regina sniffs and blinks rapidly until she can see Henry stepping closer, dropping to one knee and reaching out to clasp his fingers around her biceps. “This is different. I don’t care about what happens to me, but you? I need you to escape this  _inferno_  and be happy. Yes, I’m afraid, Regina. So, please, let’s do this soon. I can’t stand this waiting any longer.” 

 

The ringing silence that follows hurts. It’s prickly and makes her uneasy, and her father looks so defeated and anxious that a lump starts to form in her throat. All she can muster is a shaky, “As soon as possible. I promise.” 

 

* * *

 

The day comes sooner than Regina expected. Less than a week after that solemn conversation in her father’s cottage, she flies down from the portal after a daylong visit with Emma to find Hades peeking into the cottage windows. She lands softly a few feet away from the slender god and shuffles toward him unsurely. She knows that he senses her, but he hasn’t acknowledged her presence yet. She waves her hand behind her back to make the ingredients needed appear on her father’s dining table. 

 

Hades stills, most likely sensing the magic and thinking it’s her natural aura. Her theory is confirmed when he swivels to stare her down and says, “You shouldn’t sneak up on a god, you know. You could find yourself on the wrong side of a fireball.”

 

Regina hums then offers disingenuous  _“sorry”_  with a shrug of her shoulders. His expression stays mysteriously blank and he steps away from the cottage to inch closer to her then looks past, as if taking in the view of the very land he molded when he was exiled from Elysium.

 

“How was your trip to New York? What is it, the nine-hundredth time this month?” Before she can stumble upon an answer, he sarcastically continues. “Couldn’t have gone too well since,” He peers around her as if looking for someone, “I see no poor unfortunate souls trailing behind you.” 

 

“They’re waiting for you in the Temple of Sorts.” She rolls her eyes internally at the name. Hades stills thinks it’s a humorous play on words. “I retrieved them in New York City.”

 

Hades seems taken aback, surprised, and Regina wonders what the man has been up to. If he’d been spying on her, he’d know she’s telling the truth. After Emma started to yawn on her couch during the movie she stuck in for them around midnight in the Land Without Magic, Regina left to collect the souls of two men. Killian Jones, a murderer and rapist, and Robin Hood, a thief and adulterer, were both killed by their mistresses on the same night and Regina was called to collect them not long after departing from Emma’s apartment. 

 

So, why was Hades surprised? He keeps bringing New York up every time they speak, so he knows which realm she‘s consistently in, but he seems to never know what she’s up to. She’s not complaining, of course. It’s just odd. She briefly wonders if his power over her is waning because of her connection with Emma. Could Emma’s true love for her be slightly severing Hades’ hold on her before their lips even touch? Is that how he knew about Lily but doesn’t seem to know about her visits to Emma? 

 

Their true love is protecting them from him, from a god, and her heart skips a beat or two at the thought that their love is more powerful. It’s the only theory that makes sense at the moment. 

 

She always heard that True Love didn’t exist in the Land Without Magic but perhaps it’s just less obvious. In the Enchanted Forest, there’s a rainbow light that bursts from kiss and makes love nearly unbeatable, but she’s fairly unfamiliar with how it truly works in the other realms, like that witch in Oz lamenting her loss of her true love when true loves always found each other in her homeland. 

 

“Are you listening to me?” Hades’ loud hiss drags her from her thoughts. 

 

“Sorry...” She mumbles, “I’ve been lost in thought.”

 

The anger on his face doesn’t fade at her apology and she takes a small step back, needing to get away from that ash-like stench he carries. She relaxes too soon, because he lunges forward, his eyes suddenly red, and grabs her wrist with a vice grip then snaps, “When I talk, you listen!”

 

She swallows a rebellious growl.  _The pompous bastard._ She refuses to apologize again, so she stands stock still and waits, staring into his blood red irises and sighing with relief when they start to fade back to black. Hades tosses her wrist away harshly and turns back to the cottage, effectively dismissing her. 

 

But she’s not going anywhere. This ends today. 

 

“Why have you been harassing my father?” She snarls at his back and straightens her spine. Her fingers curl into her palm and make slight crescents on the skin. 

 

He slows his steps then spins to meet her determined gaze. His mouth is dropped open into a smirk at her audacity. She expects a slap or a magical whipping or  _something_ , but he  _claps_. He’s smirking and he’s clapping slowly, as if praising a child for a mediocre achievement. She’s being mocked. 

 

“Well, would you  _looky_  here! _”_ Hades announces loudly to no one at all, though she’s sure her father is hearing the entire commotion from inside his cottage. “Someone grew a pair! How cheeky!” 

 

She winces at that misogynistic insult, which makes him chuckle darkly. She hates it. She hates  _him_. “You’ve been coming by every few days and tormenting him. What is your problem, Hades? Isn’t imprisoning us in this godforsaken place with you enough?”

 

“Tormenting?” Hades huffs, that smirk still present. “I came to pay him some visits. He’s been  _so_  lonely since you’ve been absent _,_ off doing who knows what. I’m just doing my civic duty.” 

 

She can’t even hold back the eye roll at that. She swallows the rest of her fiery words in favor of pushing past him and into the cottage. He follows closely behind, practically nipping at her heels.

 

When they enter, Henry’s sitting at the small table where Regina has magicked the necessities. None of it is there though, which is good. Her father must’ve seen the velvet bag and hid it on his person. She sprints towards him and wraps her arms around his torso. As she does that, she feels the bulge of the ingredients in the pocket on his vest. 

 

“Ready?” She whispers in his ear and feels a nod against her shoulder. 

 

“As sweet as this is,” Hades interrupts smugly, “I’ve got some news for you both.” He kicks a chair out from the under the table and plops down before leveling them with one those smiles that spells trouble. “I asked Gaia to do me a solid and she came through big time.” 

 

Regina turns slightly to lock eyes with her father, whose fingers were already sliding toward the pocket of his vest. Something didn’t feel right.

 

“Is there a point, Hades?” Regina sighs in an attempt to seem calm. 

 

“A point? Hmm, well, how can I put this delicately...” He stands from the chair and steps toward them. “You’re being let go. We're going in a diffrent direction. I’m not picking up your contract.” He leans in and flicks the tip of her collar. “In not so delicate terms? I’ve grown bored of you and your insubordination.”

 

Regina’s heart is suddenly in her throat, beating wildly enough to make her body ache. “I don’t—“

 

“I’ve decided I did need a wife to entertain me after all and Gaia found a perfect young thing. Persephone’s being entrapped by some stupid little flower as we speak, and I have to meet her up there in my golden stud chariot, so let’s make this quick and painless, alright? Enjoy your eternity in Treachery. Make sure to dress warm, I hear it’s chilly down there.” 

 

Henry gasps and Regina’s knees wobble. Hades lifts his hand, ready to banish them both, when Henry’s stocky body flies from next to her to tackle the devil to the ground of the cottage. Regina chokes on air and watches helplessly as Hades screeches angrily and grabs Henry by the throat, tightening his grip until the older man is gasping for air.

 

“No! Please, stop!” Regina begs, dropping to her knees by the dining table and watching helplessly as Henry’s fingers digs into Hades’ hand until scratches mar the skin. He doesn’t bleed. 

 

Then Henry locks eyes with her and  _smiles_. She’s so lost in her panic and anguish that she doesn’t see him reaching into his vest pocket until the potion is tilting against his lips and he’s drinking the concoction. 

 

Hades jolts back as his skin begins to turn ashen. Henry’s body levitates out of his grip and starts to glow a dark red that slowly drains from him and slithers onto Hades. The slender man screeches again, this time from pain, and Regina watches on fearfully. 

 

“You  _fools!_ ” Hades screams it so loudly that it echoes across Limbo. 

 

She reaches for Henry, needing him to get out of Hades’ grip so they can take the portal, and tugs at her coat sleeve just as Hades startles at the potion finally hitting him. The magic clicks and sends everyone flying in opposite directions.

 

Hades’ back slams into the stove and the impact nearly incapacitated him. Regina and Henry stumble into the bookcase with all his knick-knacks. 

 

“Now!” She shoves him out of the cottage and throws her own body behind him. They need to trap Hades in the cottage, where Regina lined with salt, so they can get away without any worry. 

 

The moment Regina crosses the threshold, she lifts her hands and starts muttering the incantation. She ignores Hades yelling profanities and threats and blocks out the sound of his incoming stomps. Henry’s gasping for air behind her and she knows Hades must be getting close to the door. 

 

She starts reciting faster. Hades lunges for the doorway. Regina’s nose starts to bleed. Hades’ hand is about to cross the threshold. Regina’s hands thrust out and purple magic bursts from her fingertips and become absorbed by the salt. Hades hits an invisible barrier and bounces off, landing on his back on the dining room table. 

 

 _“We did it.”_  Henry whispers into the silence. Hades is screaming and pounding his fists on the magical barrier now, but the magic keeps all sound inside. The quiet is almost eerie.

 

“We did,” Regina confirms. “But no time to celebrate now. Let’s get the hell out of here, daddy.” 

 

Henry nods emphatically and tugs the magical bean from his vest. He smiles at her and extends his hand, which she takes without hesitation. “Let’s go,  _mija_. Think of home.”

 

Her eyes slip shut as blonde hair, green eyes, and a tacky red leather jacket cross her mind. Henry watches her and nearly sobs at the pureness he sees on his daughter's face. It’s been too long since he’s had the privilege of witnessing the lightness he knew his daughter was capable of. 

 

Without a second thought or glance, Henry tosses the bean to the ground between them. The bean cracks open and a red mist slowly slithers around their feet. It swirls around and around until their entire bodies are enshrouded. 

 

Hades watches on, his fists pounding against the barrier. Regina’s eyes slip open to watch him. She smirks. She’s  _won—_ he snarls, his eyes red—and he  _knows_   _it too._

 

He won’t ever be able to come for them again. 

 

Her eyes slip shut again. Blonde hair, green eyes, and a red leather jacket. The mist wraps them up and explodes outward, sending Hades flying back again. 

 

When he stands, the two people he’d been holding hostage for millennia were nowhere to be seen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I tell you I almost went with my original plan and had Henry sacrifice himself.... but then I realized Regina deserved to have something go her way. Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it only took me forever to update, I'm so sorry. I got some writers block then thought this story needed something more, so I've extended it a bit. I actually planned to end it here, but now I added some stuff (insert devil face emoji) so it's going to be longer. Not sure how much longer, but I don't foresee it getting more than 3 chapter after this one. 
> 
> Also, this is my first fic over 300 kudos!!! I was so happy when I saw that. I know it's not much compared to other writers, but this was a huge milestone for me, so thank you guys so much. I want to thank my Twitter mutuals as well, especially @milfginamills for really encouraging me and even popping into my DM's to do so. I appreciate it so much! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :)

“What do you think happens when we die?”

 

The question makes Emma freeze in her battle with her sauté pan and scrambled eggs. She peers over her shoulder and stares at Lily, who’s sitting on her couch, back ramrod straight with her head tilted back and her eyes trained on a small crack in the sheet rock.

 

“Uh... I don’t know.” Emma huffs, “It’s a little early to have a deep conversation about life after death, isn’t it? I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”

 

Lily sighs. “I’m serious, Em.”

 

Emma swallows roughly and pretends to be hyper focused on plating their breakfast. The brunette seems lost in thought, so she barely notices Emma’s hesitation. If she does notice, she most likely thinks it’s her usual lack of religiosity that‘s giving Emma pause. Truthfully, before Regina, Emma never gave the afterlife or gods much thought. She was too busy trying to survive to worry about the day she’d die.

 

Now, she knows more than she ever thought possible.

 

Emma plops the plates down on the place mats and waits for Lily to be enticed by the fatty bacon, silky scrambled eggs, and warm buttered toast. While the brunette settles at the table, Emma fetches the two cups of coffee that finished brewing then heads back to find her friend staring at her food, completely zoned out.

 

She lifts the spare place mat and smacks Lily over the head. The brunette squawks indignantly and glares up at her. “Hey! Not cool!”

 

“What’s up with you?” Emma tosses the mat away and sits down across from Lily. She doesn’t wait for the brunette to explain to start chomping on a strip of bacon. She pulls her robe closed and folds her arms over one another as she eats.

 

Lily frowns. “Nothing is up. It’s just...” She pauses, purses her lips, then sighs. “I almost died.”

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“But I almost did,” Lily emphasizes each word. Emma can tell it’s important for the sentiment to be acknowledged, so she doesn’t try to correct her. It’s true anyway. Lily was lucky.

 

She concedes, “Yeah, okay. So, that near-death experience has you questioning things then?”

 

Neither of them were religious growing up, but after coming out as lesbian and bisexual respectively in their late teens, they both grew to resent the institution. Of course, things have changed since Regina appeared in her life, even if she isn’t wholly convinced that Regina’s telling the full story, but she isn’t too curious about the afterlife either way. She’s barely asked Regina about the whole process of heaven and hell, and gods, and the validity of holy scriptures. Truthfully, she never cared much. She just wanted Regina to be around, to have a joyful existence until she takes her last breath. It’s an ambitious goal, she knows, but Regina makes her believe that it could be possible.

 

“Not questioning. I’m just...” Lily struggles to find a way to describe whatever’s filtering through her mind and lamely finishes with, “worried.”

 

“Worried?”

 

“You know...” Lily drops her fork against the side of the plate with a clank and wrings her fingers together anxiously. Emma watches on helplessly as the brunette mutters, “Heaven, Hell, where I fit in. I’m worried I’ll be heading south.”

 

“Lily, come on,” Emma reaches over to grab the brunette’s hands in her own and squeeze. She waits until Lily looks at her. “You are a good person. You’re heading north, okay?“

 

“I’ve done terrible shit, Em.” Lily spits out, angry and aggressive all of a sudden. “I’d deserve it, you know? I deserve an eternity of fiery damnation or whatever the hell those bible thumpers are always preaching about.”

 

Emma watches helplessly as Lily tips her hands out from under her’s and pushes the plate away haphazardly. A glob of scrambled eggs slips onto the table and Emma stares at it in an attempt to hold in her need to debunk everything coming from her friends’ mouth because Lily is obviously feeling this way for a reason.

 

She sighs. “Is that about what happened that night between us?”

 

“No!” Lily shakes her head, “Partly, because I still feel guilty as hell, but no, not really. This is about something else.” The brunette rubs a hand across her face and squeezes her eyes closed like that’ll stop the onslaught of memories clearly filtering through her mind. “I don’t want to be miserable for the rest of eternity, Emma.”

 

“You  _won’t_ be,” Emma says without an inch of room for argument. “Whatever you think you’ve done to deserve hell? You’ve got an entire lifetime to make up for it. You’ve been given a second chance, Lily. Make the most of it.”

 

The brunette covers her face with her palms, but nods slowly. Emma stays quiet now, letting her friend process her thoughts. Emma needs a moment as well, because imagining one of her oldest friends being stuck in the place her soon-to-be lover is trapped and miserable in? It’s too much to handle. Lily’s had a hard life, has gone through so much and lost so much and made so many difficult decisions just to survive, and she still tries to be good, despite the world constantly keeping her down.

 

It wouldn’t be fair.

 

_“Nothing is fair, Emma. Life isn’t fair... and death certainly isn’t, to that I can attest.”_

 

It’s something Regina has told her before and she shudders to think that, even in death, people aren’t given some slack for being human. 

“It’s all I can do at this point, right? _Try?”_ Lily’s hands slide down her face to wrap around her neck lightly, her own thumb roaming over her strong pulse, the one thing proving her hearts still beating. Emma starts to nod and open her mouth to respond when Lily jolts, “What the hell?!” The brunette flies out of her seat, knocking the chair back with a bang, and brandishes a flimsy table knife, pointing it in the direction of the kitchen.

 

And when Emma swivels to check out what has spooked her friend, she sees Regina standing there, looking hot as hell—no pun intended—in her black cotton shirt and leather overcoat with tight leggings and knee-high boots. Her smile is so wide Emma’s sure it brightens the room. Then, when she has the presence of mind to look away from the brunette woman she’s severely attracted to, she notices the older man standing next to her who looks to be in a mixture of relief, shock, and unadulterated joy.

 

She almost smiles but Lily’s lunging closer to the pair and stepping in front of Emma in a protective stance. She points the knife at them and growls, “Back off!”

 

Regina just rolls her eyes but the older man, who she presumes and hopes is Henry, looks terrified. Emma’s quick to jump up and swipe the knife from her friend. Lily grunts out a startled _“Hey!”_.

 

“Relax. It’s okay.” Emma soothes and grips her bicep to pull her back and away from the duo watching.

 

“You know this dude?” Lily asks, unsure and still weary. _Ah, so Regina remains invisible to humans. Why isn’t Henry though?_

 

Emma saves that question for later and instead turns to smile at him reassuringly and says, “Yeah. He’s a friend. We must’ve left the door open when you came in.”

 

Lily looks wholly unconvinced but steps back. Her sharp green eyes never stray from Henry though. Emma takes initiative and pushes her into her chair and slides the plate back toward her.

 

“Eat up,” She says, “You have less than an hour until your shift.” She points to her bedroom down the hall and adds, “I’m gonna show Henry the keyboard Granny got me. He’s a music enthusiast and I thought he’d get a kick out of seeing a vintage Casio.”

 

“Maybe I should go with you?” Lily’s almost halfway out of her chair when Emma slams her back down.

 

“Relax, will you? He’s a nice guy,” Emma reiterates. It wouldn’t be so hard to convince Lily of his noble intentions if the man would speak up. He’s just standing there looking dazed and gaping slightly. It’s not exactly screaming normal, non-threatening, or casual.

 

She doesn’t let Lily say another word about it and walks past the kitchen and toward the hallway to her bedroom, motioning to Henry and—unbeknownst to Lily—Regina as she passes. The pair follows her readily and she nearly falls backward when her bedroom door closes behind her and Regina’s lithe frame is slamming into hers to initiate a hug that’s dripping in relief and merriment. Emma’s arms slither around her waist and hold on so tight, there’d be bruises where fingertips pressed into the olive skin if Regina was susceptible to injury from human beings.

 

“You’re here,” Emma sighs so softly that it’s barely decipherable. Then, in a much stronger voice, she says, “You did it, right? Your dad is—He’s here, so...?”

 

Regina’s smile softens, warms, and Emma would melt if she wasn’t bursting at the seams for confirmation.

 

Henry notices his daughters lack of response and holds out his hand. When Emma eagerly takes it, he replies, “I’m Henry Mills. You must be the kind soul that’s made my Regina quite happy and hopeful the past few months.”

 

Emma blushes like a lovesick fool and bats her eyelashes shyly.

 

It’s the most idiotic she’s felt in years... and the happiest, so maybe it’s worth it. “I guess so? She’s...” Emma locks eyes with her love and sighs quietly, her lips pulling back into a soft, dopey smile, “She’s pretty great.”

 

Henry looks pleased, a chuckle escaping easily as he watches his own daughter blush now. “That she is.”

 

Henry pulls his hand back from where it was still shaking Emma’s then reaches over to squeeze his daughter’s bicep lovingly. “So, _mija_ , are we commencing the final phase of our plan?”

The final phase. The kiss. The moment Emma’s been impatiently waiting for. Her lungs seize at the realization that she’d be able to feel Regina’s lips against hers before the end of the day and flush of excitement courses through her and makes her shiver.

 

“Yes,” Regina exhales it on a deep breath, dreamily and full of expectation. Then she sobers somewhat, because if anyone is thinking ahead or logically, it’s the brunette. “But we must wait until we’re alone.” She peers at the bedroom door meaningfully as she says, “I’m not sure what will happen when we... Lily can’t be here, just in case, and she can’t be privy to the supernatural or afterlife. Hades shouldn’t be a problem, but the other gods are just as protective of their status and secretive lifestyle.”

 

Emma nods, having expected that. She’s surprised they haven’t gotten into deeper shit considering all the information she’s learned since seeing Regina in that prison infirmary all those years ago.

 

“She’ll be leaving soon. Her shift starts at 8 am.” Emma checks her alarm clock on the nightstand and sees that Lily only has about forty-five minutes until she has to get to Granny’s. She can’t afford to be late now, not after Granny did her the solid of saving her position while she recovered from her stab wound.  “While I try to get her fed and out the door, why don’t you guys hang out in here? I’ll be right back.”

 

Emma walks backward and nearly flips over her keyboard, the very one Emma claimed she was going to show Henry. Regina snorts and Henry bites his lip to not laugh at the clumsiness. Emma scowls playfully at them before leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind her.

 

Later on, she’ll wish she had reveled in the happiness.

 

* * *

 

Regina’s haze of lovesickness is broken when the bedroom door snicks shut and is quickly replaced with genuine excitement. Her father is safe and sound, Hades is no longer a threat, and her curse will be broken by the end of the day. She’ll be human once more, to be seen and heard, and she’s so ready for it that her body is flooded with adrenaline.

 

In her peripheral, she notices her father walking over to the queen-sized bed and sitting down with a grunt. She joins him not long after and reaches out to hold his hand between hers. He watches her with an odd mix of adoration, relief, and nervousness that makes her tense slightly. She knows that look.

 

“So, you’re excited, _mija_?” He asks quietly.

 

“I am,” Regina replies before he even finishes uttering his term of endearment. She imagines being able to hold Emma every day, to run her hands over Emma’s grey silk  robe and black tank top and tiny pinstripe boy shorts, to make love to her when the alarm clock goes off. She imagines a life with her. “I’m ready to be seen again, daddy.”

 

He hums in that way that tells her he’s about to bring up something that’ll most likely cause some tension. It’s still a surprise when he speaks.

 

“Are you prepared for the ramifications of the curse breaking?” He asks meaningfully, like he knows she hasn’t given that much thought. He’s right. She’s been so enraptured by the positive possibilities and hasn’t stopped to analyze any risks.

 

“Ramifications?”

 

“Regina...” He pauses to pat the back of her hand with his left and smiles at her with melancholy clearly visible on his face. “If you break the curse, we become mortal again, which means humans will see you again and that’s wonderful...”

 

“But...?” Regina prompts.

 

“But it also means we’ll age. We’ll... die, _mija,_ and I’m afraid we’ll end up back at square one—“

 

“You think we’d go back to _hell_?” She almost chokes on the last word, the possibility of it making her throat tighten. She stands so gruffly that her father nearly tumbles off the edge. She huffs, “We—I served the gods. They wouldn’t allow me to be sent back!”

 

“You served Hades!” Henry snaps. “You worked for the Devil, you did things for him, you’ve... Regina, the gods have never tried to save us. Not once did they try to help us break free of him. They don’t care. Zeus and Hera and the rest of them! We are nothing!”

 

“Daddy—“

 

“She seems wonderful, and I love how happy she’s made you, but we have to think logically, Regina. Is she worth an eternity of damnation for the both of us?” Regina frowns at him, stunned, and he sighs. “Or perhaps... perhaps you two could still build a life together without breaking the curse.”

 

“A life?” Regina chuckles without a smidgeon of mirth. “What kind of life is that? Not being able to kiss her, or raise children, or have a job or friends, or—what kind of life is that? It’s hell again, just without Hades to torment me.”

 

“I’m not trying to upset you—“

 

“Well, you are!” Regina whispers, but it’s sharp and harsh as her hands slap down on her thighs. “I was so happy and relieved and excited, and now I’m afraid and unsure. But I love her, daddy. I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” She chokes back a sob, “I want to savor it, no matter the consequences.”

 

“I’m happy for you,” Henry says it emotionlessly, “But I most likely have less than twenty years of mortal life to live before old age takes me. This fate we may face? It’s right around the corner for me, and I just ask that you think this through carefully.” He looks away from her distraught gaze to stare at his knees. “I will support you either way.”

 

Regina stands frozen in the middle of Emma’s bedroom, staring down at her father, who at least seems contrite about his outburst. Still, it’s too late. The words have been said, and Regina can’t stop thinking about it.

 

What if they did go back to hell after death? Hades would surely make their eternity in the afterlife as torturous as possible. Was Emma worth that? For Regina, yes, she was. She would gladly spend an eternity in misery just to have a single lifetime with Emma Swan. But her father... could she sacrifice his happiness again? Could she once again put her own needs ahead of his and get them both stuck in the very place they just escaped?

 

The thoughts run rampant and occupy her mind for so long that by the time she blinks back to reality, Emma’s walking through her bedroom door and smiling at them. At least until she notices the tears in Regina’s eyes and the way Henry can’t look at them.

 

“Is everything okay?” Emma asks when no explanations are forthcoming.

 

“Everything is fine, Emma.” Regina attempts to reassure but her tone is too snappish and breathy. Henry’s watching them now and she has to resist the urge to shuffle in place under the scrutiny. Emma doesn’t notice. She’s too focused on Regina.

 

Though she’s obviously unconvinced, the blonde drops it and says, “I made way too much food. I know you don’t eat—not yet anyway—but, I don’t know, maybe your dad might be hungry?”

 

Regina grabs the sleeve of Emma’s silk robe to keep her from leaving. “Actually,” Regina sighs, “Let’s do it. Let’s...” She pulls Emma closer by the cuff of her robe until their entire bodies are aligned and their noses brush. Henry looks away, feeling uncomfortable witnessing the intimacy and worrying about the outcome. She tries to ignore him in favor of smiling reassuringly at Emma, who’s starting to look a bit worried herself. “I want to have breakfast with you.”

 

The blonde’s hands land on her hips and squeeze the curves there as she nuzzles their noses together lovingly. “Are you sure?”

 

_Are you sure this will work? Are you sure you love me? Are you sure I’m the Savior? Are you sure I’m worth it?_

Regina hears the multitude of questions interwoven in the one Emma vocalizes and she quickly realizes the answer to all of them is a resounding _yes_. Her wings slowly extend out, blocking the sun’s rays and giving them some privacy by curving around Emma’s shoulders. Henry can’t see them anymore, but he watches intently, waiting for something to happen.

 

“I want more than breakfast. I want a life.” Regina whispers into the cocoon she’s created for them and  laughs so quietly that it’s almost a sigh and Emma is completely entranced by the bright brown eyes gazing back at her. “I’ve been waiting thousands of years to love you, Emma. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

 

And she doesn’t. Emma’s soft lips dart forward and press against Regina’s in a slow, passionate kiss neither will ever forget. Emma’s mouth opens and her tongue sweeps across the scar on Regina’s upper lip a few times before flicking it roughly and retreating. Regina almost moans but she’s still cognizant enough to remember her father is sitting on the bed next to them.

 

Then it dawns on her. Her wings are still enshrouding them, her father is still watching them with bated breath, and Emma’s kisses are turning desperate. The blonde is kissing and kissing and kissing, then there’s a sob and Regina can’t tell who it came from. Because it _didn’t work._ They’ve kissed, and her wings are still attached firmly to her back.

 

Her heart heaves against her ribs then stills with dread.

 

“No,” She whispers against Emma’s quivering lips then presses her lips to the blonde’s over and over, silently praying to any deity listening to not do this to her— _to them._ “No!”

 

Emma’s hands drift up to grip her biceps and squeeze, and Regina’s eyes slam shut at the piercing pain she feels in her chest. She _loves_ Emma. She knows Emma loves her. She thinks of a stable boy’s heart being crushed to ash and thinks her own is turning to dust at this very moment.

 

Emma releases a shaky breath as her hands slide from her biceps to her wings, so her fingers can run over the silky feathers with reverence. To a casual observer, Emma would seem casual and nonchalant, but Regina knows better. Those green eyes are glossier than they were when she walked into the room, her fingers are tense against the black wings she’s beginning to despise, and her mouth is twisted into a smile so disingenuous it could be spotted from a mile away.

 

And suddenly Regina’s stomach rolls with anxiety, because Emma’s never gotten her way, never had someone want her enough to stay, and she’s most likely having racing thoughts that are spewing rhetoric that simply isn’t true.

 

_She loves Emma. Emma loves her._

 

“ _Mija?_ ” Her father’s muffled voice reaches them, but it’s ignored.

 

Emma clears her throat and Regina swallows whatever she was going to say with another kiss. It’s soft and loving and she’s putting every ounce of feeling she has into it.

 

When they part, Emma’s crying. The tears are running down her cheeks steadily and all Regina can do is wipe them away with her thumb. She’s not sure what to say. Emma beats her to it with a devastated, “I’m so sorry.”

 

Regina immediately shushes her. “No, darling. You have nothing to apologize for.” Her quiet sob bellies the sentiment a bit, but Emma’s arms still wrap around her waist and pull her into a hug that’s tight and almost suffocating, but it’s what she needs, really. She’s almost delirious with grief over this and it has her glaring at the ceiling, at the gods above the realms, and crying out, “I just wanted a life with her.”

 

“I know,” Emma says against her neck and Regina waits for more.

 

She needs Emma to explain this. _Why didn’t this work?_ She loves Emma more than she ever thought she could love anyone. The blonde idiot makes her happy despite every reason why she shouldn’t be. Unless...

 

_I just wanted a life with her._

_I know._

 

Not a _me too_ or a _this can’t be right._

 

She pulls back from the hug and wipes her eyes with the sleeves of her black cotton shirt and stares the woman she loves down until Emma looks away... in guilt? 

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Regina says, like someone knocked the wind out of her. She does feel breathless. “You...”

 

“Regina?” Emma’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and she’d think it’s cute if she wasn’t on the edge of a breakdown.

 

“I’m... sorry. I just assumed you would want this to.” Regina mutters as her wings jerk back, the tips folding to brush her own forearms. “I thought you—“

 

“What? I do! Don’t put words in my mouth,” Emma snaps and Regina recoils. Henry can see them now and the tension has him rising to his feet.

 

“Well, I know how I feel about you, so there’s only one other explanation, Miss Swan!” Regina yells back.

 

“ _Mija_ —“

_“I love you, Regina!”_

Regina grits her teeth, anger overwhelming her sense, and turns to her father, who has the gall to look saddened. She points at him and venomously hisses, “ _You!_ You had to say those things to me and now look! Are you happy, father? Guess you got what you wanted!”

 

Henry’s mouth falls open and Emma watches them, her green eyes wide and a bit hurt and tearful, and Regina can’t take it anymore.

 

She waves her hand and disappears from the bedroom, leaving the two people she loves most behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I hide? haha


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Sorry it took a bit longer than usual, but it's finally here. Please let me know what you think. Also, I haven't had time to get a beta, so all mistakes are my own. If there's anything egregious, just let know. 
> 
> This story is definitely wrapping up. I'm thinking a chapter or two left. I want to really thank you all for making this story my most kudoed. I appreciate it more than I can say!

Henry Mills is a quiet man, Emma learns quickly. She’s not sure if that’s just his personality or if the bone-crushing sadness Emma’s feeling is afflicting him as well.

 

Either way, it’s awkward. They’ve never met before, but they’re both worried about Regina and stuck in their own heads about what happened earlier, and Emma doesn’t know how to deal with him, so they end up sitting on her couch, watching some mindless game show.

 

Normally, she hates silence and its awkwardness, but right now, she couldn’t care less. She’s too focused on Regina, the kiss that didn’t break the curse and Regina’s accusation that cut deeper than she cares to admit, not because she feels hurt but because she can’t stand Regina thinking that Emma doesn’t love her or doesn’t want a life with her. Now she’s gone, off to god knows where, and Emma’s worried. Actually, she’s _terrified_. She’s terrified that Regina won’t come back and anxiously searching for a reason why the universe wouldn’t allow their kiss to work.

 

She stares at the flashing television screen until a throat clears from next to her. She slowly looks over and sees that the older man is watching her with enough curiosity and guilt to make her shift in place. She hasn’t asked him what he said to make Regina so angry, but she kind of doesn’t want to know.

 

 _He doesn’t like you,_ her brain supplies. Rationally, she knows it can’t be true because he doesn’t even know her. They’ve said a handful of sentences to one another and it was all amicable, but her mind isn’t operating rationally at the moment.

 

“She’ll come back,” is what he ends up saying after a few terse moments of silence and Emma barely holds in her scoff.

 

“For you, maybe.”

 

Henry shakes his head. “And for you. She cares much too deeply for you to give up so easily. She just needs some space, but she’ll return to _both_ of us.”

“I guess we’ll see about that,” Emma replies disbelievingly as her lower lip juts out to form a small pout. Henry laughs under his breath and she narrows her gaze. “What?”

 

“You’re just as stubborn as she is,” He explains with a caring smile. The momentary joy quickly fades. “She’s always been so stubborn, such a risk-taker. I admire that in her. She fights for what she wants, no matter the cost, which is why she and I bump heads at times. I’m cautious—perhaps to a fault. Regina seems to think so anyway.”

 

Emma shrugs. She doesn’t know what to say, so she tries to be empathetic. “Being cautious isn’t a bad thing.”

 

“Hmm, but there’s quite a difference between being cautious and being a coward.” Henry sighs and looks away now. “I’ve spent my entire existence being afraid. I was afraid of not being a good king, afraid of Cora, afraid for my daughter, and... yes, afraid for myself, my well-being. I’m still that way no matter how hard I try to be brave. I told Regina my fearfulness stems from worry about her solely, and I know that isn’t true. It’s more than that. She was right. I’ve been a coward.”

 

And now Emma’s curiosity has been activated. “What did you say to her while I was getting Lily out of here?”

 

His expression turns sheepish. “I—I panicked and told her I was worried we’d become mortal again only to end up back in Hell when this life was over.”

 

 _Oh_. Emma hadn’t thought about that. Her eyes slip shut, and her fingers reach up to rub her temple. Henry starts to apologize, and she lifts her other hand, silently telling him to stop. She peers around the hand on her face and purses her lips. “You actually make a good point, Henry.”

 

“No, it was selfish.”

 

“ _No_ , wait.” Emma huffs, “Regina and I... we fell in love despite all of the obstacles in our way and it’s been really hard for both of us in that department, you know? And maybe we didn’t think this—the curse breaking—through enough. We certainly didn’t take your feelings into account. I’m sorry for that.”

 

The older man subtly shakes his head, but she can tell it’s not to deny her the apology. The small, sad smile at the corner of his mouth stretches up as his eyes become tearful. “You’re everything I ever wanted for my daughter. That smile when she saw you...” He chuckles, “I haven’t seen a smile like that before, not even for the stable boy.”

 

 _Not even for the stable boy._ The words knock the wind out of Emma. He notices and reaches over to pat her hand that’s gripping one of the couch throw pillows so tightly her knuckles are white.

 

He nods slowly and reaffirms, “Yes, she’ll be back for us both. I have no doubts.”

 

And, well, at least one of them believes.

 

* * *

 

The Enchanted Forest hasn’t changed much since she was a child. The people continue to be exhaustingly judgmental, noble, and narrow-minded. The landscape, however, is what always captured her attention. It’s winding hills, lagoons and meadows, and vibrant grass was a throwback to her youth, to playing outside and riding horses whenever her mother was away on business. It reminded her of Daniel, their secret kisses behind the barn or under the apple tree on the hill overlooking her family’s estate. 

 

Whenever she came to collect souls here, she would always take a moment to sit on that hilltop and admire how the sun glows bright orange behind the roof of her home, which now belongs to a handsome young man raising a daughter on his own. She sometimes watches as the man chases his daughter around the grassy knoll just off the left side of the home and laughs along with the girl’s joyful giggles.

 

He calls her his _starfish_. For some reason, it tugs at her heart and makes her wonder what her life could’ve been like if she had two parents like the dark-haired man. The thought of never chasing her own child around a field and hearing their playful laugh tears her apart inside, and the prospect has only gotten worse since the kiss that didn’t break the curse.

 

“I knew I’d find you here.” Regina jolts at the unexpected voice and swivels to see Tinkerbell, a fairy from the Enchanted Forests’ coven of fairies, leaning against a tree a few feet away. The short blonde is smirking at her.

 

“You can see me?” Regina gasps.

 

“Not for much longer,” Tink admits. “Zeus sensed you here and asked me to come extend an offer. He gave me the ability to see you temporarily, though we have high hopes you’ll be mortal soon enough.”

 

A twinge shoots through Regina’s chest. “I wouldn’t hold your breath on that.” Then the first part sinks in. “Wait, Zeus sent you to extend an offer? For what?”

 

The fairy pushes away from the tree and saunters to sit down on the patch of grass next to her. She settles and smiles at the man and his daughter down below before replying. “Yes, he did. He heard about your escape and how you duped Hades.”

 

“ _Duped_ is a strong word for what my father and I did. We got lucky.” _S_ he admits sheepishly. Looking back on what they did, she heaved a sigh of relief. Who knows what would’ve happened if Hades managed to stop their escape.

 

“Semantics,” Tink winks as she says it and Regina can’t smother a chuckle.

 

As a child, she constantly wished to the fairies, asking for freedom from her mother, and they never answered. Tink found her when she was in her late teens, just before Hades entered her life, and warned away from her powerful men. She offered to show Regina her true love. When she took her up on it and the pixie dust lead them to a tavern several miles away from her home, she turned and ran. At times, she used to lament that decision. Now... she thanks the heavens that she didn’t enter that tavern. If she had, she most certainly wouldn’t have met Emma Swan.

 

 _God, Emma._ Her eyes slam shut. She left her again when she knows about Emma’s insecurity and abandonment issues. It was all a spur of the moment, hot-headed decision and she’s been regretting it since she transported here a few hours ago, but she’s terrified to go back. What if she returns to a blonde that’s sick and tired of the particular baggage she carries on her shoulders? What then?

 

Two fingers snap in front of her eyes, making them cross. Tink laughs at that before she says, “Lets focus here. I’m not sure how much time I have. Zeus heard about Hades and what you did, and he wants to thank you. Hades has been a thorn in the gods’ sides for millennia.” When she just stares at the blonde, a scowl etches onto the fairy’s face. “Did you hear me? Zeus wants to thank you.”

 

“Yes, dear, but Zeus tends to believe impregnating women with his offspring is a gift, so I’m not exactly jumping for joy quite yet.”

 

“ _Regina,”_ Tink hisses under her breath and swiftly smacks her shoulder. “He offered a home in Elysium for both you and your father once your mortal lives end.”

 

Regina bursts out laughing, though it lacks humor. The fairy leans back, watching the blonde incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”

 

“Why would I kid about something like this?” Tink shakes her head.

 

Regina’s laughter slowly morphs into a hiccup and her eyes are shining too much to be anything other than sadness. “Going back to Hades was my fathers’ biggest worry if we became mortal again.”

 

“Well...” Tink trails off, obviously unsure where this is going.

 

“Except it doesn’t matter now.” Regina wipes the built-up tears from her eyes and wipes her wet fingers on her coat. “We won’t ever be mortal. The woman I love... the kiss didn’t work.”

 

The fairy sighs regretfully and reaches over to grip Regina’s hand in her own. She looks ready to say something but she’s obviously holding back. When Regina prompts her with a knowing glare, Tink relents and says, “The man in the tavern... the one with the lion tattoo.”

 

Regina swiftly looks away. “I don’t want him, whoever he is.”

 

“Perhaps not, but... he could break the curse and allow you to be with this woman.” Tink explains with trepidation. Regina’s neck almost snaps as she whips around to glare at the perpetually young blonde woman. Tink lifts her hands in surrender. “It’s an option, that’s all.”

 

As much as Regina hates to admit it, that may be her only option if she wants to become mortal again and have a life with the one she truly loves.

 

* * *

 

Emma smirks from behind her deck of cards as Henry squints at his own fanned out between his fingers. With one final glance at the deck between them, he slips one card out and places it on top. A green four. He only has three cards left.

 

She grins and slaps down a plus four card. Henry tosses his deck onto the table, frustrated, and grunts. “How am I supposed to win if you keep giving me cards?!”

 

She snorts. “I’m sabotaging you. It’s part of the game.”

 

“I call foul play.”

 

Emma chokes out a laugh and flicks his cards back toward his hand. “Come on, you could still win. Uno is unpredictable like that. Get your four cards.”

 

Henry grumbles under his breath but does as she says and is rewarded with several damaging cards that he uses on Emma. He does it without an ounce of remorse and she has to admit she deserves it. She’d been dishing out plus cards and reverses to him all game, so she can’t complain.

 

He relaxes once they’re back on an even playing field, each with three cards. Emma knows she’s going to lose this round. She’s got all yellows and Henry’s smirking like he’s got sabotage cards. The prospect of losing doesn’t bother her, but the question that rolls off his tongue as he places a skip card down startles her a bit.

 

“How did you two meet?”

 

She picks at the corner of her left card as he casually plays a red three. She ends up picking up two cards before a red one appears. Only then does she respond with a lukewarm, “Our story doesn’t have a great start, honestly.”

 

“Hmm,” He hums then, as he drops his second card onto the pile, smugly adds, “Uno.” She glares at him playfully, hoping that he won’t press the issue, but while Henry is a quiet man, he’s equally curious. “Why wasn’t it a great start?”

 

She sighs. He’s obviously not going to let it go. Reluctantly, she quietly admits, “I was in prison. Got into a fight, nearly died, and, well, I think you can guess the rest.”

 

“You saw her right away?” He asks instead of probing into her arrest history, which manages to shock the hell out of her. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just awed curiosity and admiration.

 

“Uh, yeah, I did. I thought she was a nurse.”

 

“Amazing,” Henry whispers. His hands are gripping the cards so hard that his knuckles are white. “And I made her feel guilty for loving you.”

 

“Hey, your concerns were valid,” Emma reminds him. She fakes some optimism. “Besides, she’s coming back, right? There’s always time to make this right somehow.”

 

Henry nods slowly, but his eyes are vacant, like he’s not present. She sees the exact moment he snaps back out of his thoughts. He looks at her softly, with enough parental worry to make her eyes burn. “Do you have a family, Emma?”

 

“I have... people.” She smiles, “I’d consider them family, yeah.”

 

“Good. People are good.”

 

Emma laughs, choked up a bit. “People aren’t always good, but my _family_... they’re better than good.” She glances at the living room where the furniture Granny, Archie, Ruby, and Lily got for her are set up and bites her lip. “They’re the best.”

 

Henry puts down a plus four card but Emma‘s smile doesn’t even wobble.

 

* * *

 

“I have pixie dust.” Tink announces after nearly five minutes of contemplative silence and Regina nearly jumps out of her skin. “I could track down the man with the lion tattoo easily.”

 

A few seconds of terse silence pass before Regina sighs, “I just don’t understand.”

 

“Understand what?” The fairy asks. The man on the bottom of the hill picks up his daughter and starts swinging her around in his arms. Regina watches intently, the corner of her mouth twitching.

 

“I don’t understand why the kiss with the woman I love didn’t work. I know that I love her and that she loves me. We wanted the curse to break. I don’t understand.”

 

Tink narrows her gaze. “You said your father worried about going back to hell, didn’t you?” Regina nods solemnly. “Did he tell you that?”

 

“Yes,” Regina sniffs, her jaw clenched.

 

Tink’s skeptical expression melts now. “Of course,” The fairy whispers and Regina can’t possibly fathom what has her friend so relieved. Then Tink laughs softly, “Don’t you see?”

 

“Obviously not, gnat.” The nickname is hissed, her frustration no longer at bay, but Tink’s joyful smile doesn’t budge.

 

“True Love’s Kiss isn’t just about love, Regina. It’s about wants and desires and—“

 

“I want and desire Emma plenty!”

 

“And intentions!” Tink huffs playfully, silently chastising the interruption. “Regina, if you subconsciously feared you and your father would end up back in Hades’ grip, then perhaps the magic sensed your hesitance.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Regina sniffs as her arms cross defensively.

 

“No, it’s actually been documented more than I count recount. Most notably, the curse of the Dark One has been unbreakable simply because those possessed by the darkness come to revel in the power it affords them. So, True Love’s Kiss has never worked for a Dark One. We got close once, but Rumpelstiltskin was able to stop it at the last second—“

 

“Rumpelstiltskin?” Regina remembers him clearly. It was so long ago that she saw him in her mother’s chambers, whispering conspiratorially with Cora, but she never forgot his scaly, oily skin and lizard-like eyes.

 

“His lover, Belle, was his true love, but his thirst for power and his need to find his son proved too strong. The poor young girl was devastated... quite like you are now.” Tink leans over and grabs her left hand to stop it from wringing with the other. “Their obstacle was too great, but yours? Regina, I just gave you the balm to your worries. Zeus will take you and your father to Elysium when your mortal lives are over. You needn’t fear Hades any longer.”

 

Regina’s heart is beating so hard that each thud makes her flinch, but her lips pull into a smile and her eyes burn. “I need to go back to her I need—“

 

“Yes, go.” Tink smiles back at her and shoves her shoulder. “You have a True Love waiting for you.”

 

Regina wants to laugh, but it sticks in her throat as her wings burst outward from her shoulder blades and flap until she’s standing over the blonde fairy. She turns to leave when a thought enters her mind and forces her to turn back and get Tink’s attention. The blonde scrunches her brow as the brunette inhales deeply.

 

“I have one last favor to ask of Zeus,” She reveals. “Can you deliver my message?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“There’s a woman named Lilith Ficent. She’s made a few errors in judgment, but she’s a good person, a great friend. She doesn’t deserve the fate she’s been assigned. If he could spare her, allow her into Elysium when her time comes, I would greatly appreciate it.”

 

Tink’s smile widens almost imperceptibly. “You’re going soft, _Angel of Death._ ”

 

“As long as you don’t cross me, gnat.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” The fairy laughs. “Go get that happy ending, will you?” 

* * *

 

“Now that I’ve beaten to you at your own game,” Henry teases with a wink as he saunters back into the dining area from her bedroom, where she stores all of her board and card games. She should’ve never taught him about the plus four card. “It’s time I beat you at one of mine.”

 

“Cocky there, Mills.” Emma has to bite her tongue to stifle the laugh that bubbles up at his arched brow and playful smirk. “Also, a game you played when you were alive? If it’s some medieval thing, I might as well forfeit.”

 

Henry slides a box out from under his arm and plops it on the table. _Checkers_. It was a gift from Lily when she moved in. They used to play it in the group home as kids. It was one of the only games the place could afford.

 

Henry sits down at the shared corner of the table and rubs his hands together. “Worry not, Miss Swan. Checkers is a classic in all the realms.”

 

They set up the board and Henry graciously allows her to pick a color. She goes with black and pretends it has nothing to do with Regina wearing the color every day. They end up playing a couple of rounds and each leave the table with some wins under their belts. Emma won more games, but she refuses to brag or tease, not when Henry is finally showing just how talkative and social he can be.

 

She ends up in the kitchen when four in the afternoon strikes on the clock and starts to cook some macaroni and cheese from a box. Henry watches her intensely and practically loses his mind over the powered cheese. She finds out that he eats, which confuses the hell out of her.

 

He explains that he’s technically still a mortal, just that his aging was stunted in Hell. The realm was built to sustain souls for eternity and kept him frozen in time, but he still needed sustenance to stay healthy. He wouldn’t die, of course, but he refused to live an eternity feeling miserable and sick.

 

He also explains that Regina became immortal and doesn’t need sustenance. She was truly limited. She didn’t eat or drink because it made her sick. She once tried to have a meal with Henry a few days after they were relegated to Hell and ended up in the infirmary for days. Hades found the situation comical but later told them that gods, goddesses, and their angels couldn’t stomach the food of the mortals. 

 

This same reasoning explains why Henry was seen by Lily, but Regina continues to be invisible. The distinction between mortal and immortal makes all the difference.

 

“But if you’re mortal, aren’t you already aging? And wouldn’t you age even if Regina’s curse didn’t break?”

 

“I’m mortal, indeed, but parts of Regina’s curse are attached to me because Hades was punishing us both. He needed me to be ageless and trapped in order to coerce my daughter. He never planned to lose us both.” Henry sighs, “If Regina’s curse of immortality is broken, I will begin to age. It’ll be as if time unfreezes for the both of us.”

 

“That’s...” Emma searches for the right word but comes up empty. Henry nods anyway, like he knows what she’s trying to express.

 

“Hades was certainly something else.”

 

“That’s putting it mildly.” She scoffs.

 

He smiles at her before twisting his plate, lifting his spoon and dipping it into the creamy macaroni and cheese experimentally. His first taste has him moaning happily. “This is surprisingly delicious,” Henry compliments after practically shoveling several spoonfuls into his mouth.

 

“Don’t sound so surprised, old man.”

 

Henry chokes on the pasta when a laugh bursts from his lungs. He coughs and Emma pats his back as she chuckles at his misfortune. He sips some water then wipes his lips with a napkin. “Yes, I think Regina hit the jackpot with you.”

 

And Emma can’t stop the blush that sprouts up.

 

“He’s right, you know.”

 

The unexpected voice startles them both until they whip around to see the woman they’ve been anxiously waiting for leaning against the wall closest to the bedroom and watching them with warmth permeating from her. Henry jumps up from his chair and runs over to take his daughter into his arms. Emma can tell he’s already crying into Regina’s shoulder because of his heaving breaths. The brunette’s eyes have slipped shut and her arms slither around to hold him against her tightly.

 

He’s apologizing repeatedly and Regina’s attempting to shush him softly. Emma’s own emotions rise quickly as she watches them.

 

Then those brown eyes are open and staring at her with so much feeling that she can’t even begin to define what it is. She doesn’t stay in the dark long.

 

“Emma,” Regina breathes out and it’s so sorrowful.

 

“You left.”

 

“I know.” Regina steps back from her embrace with her father and drags the chair he’d been occupying closer to the blonde. When she sits, her hands dart forward to latch onto Emma’s shaking one’s. “I was scared, but I should’ve realized that you were too. I’m sorry. I can’t promise I won’t do the wrong thing again, but I can promise I will always come back. That is, if you still want this... want me?”

 

“Regina...” Emma rolls her eyes, “As if I could ever stop.”

 

“Promise?” The brunette whispers and Emma just can’t stop thinking of the power-hungry woman that raise this desperate child begging to be loved. And god, Emma doesn’t think there’ll ever be a time where Regina isn’t holding Emma’s heart in her hand.

 

“Scouts honor,” Emma lifts their hands and lays a kiss on each knuckle of Regina’s right hand. Regina smiles like she’s been given the world. Emma takes their hands and tugs them to press against her chest, right above her heaving heart. Her eyes slip shut to stunt the tears suddenly building in them. “I’m just so sorry I’m not able to help. I want that life you talked about, I swear to you. I _do_ love you—“

_“_ I know that, Emma. I do. I love you too.” Regina removes one of her hands from their spot over Emma’s heart to cup her cheek. “Before you, my heart had grown still. Then you _saw_ me, and it heaved so fiercely in my chest that it hurt, and I knew from that moment that you were the reason it would never still again.”

 

“Regina...”

 

And before the last syllable is even whispered, Regina smoothly leans forward and connects their lips for the second time ever.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was supposed to be the last chapter with the epilogue being next, but I reached my 4k word limit before the smut and..... if you know me, you know I can't leave out the smut. So, next chapter will be half smut and half epilogue! 
> 
> I really appreciate all the comments, kudos, and even art piece I saw on Twitter for this story! Thank you all so much. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

There have been moments in Emma’s life that she will never forget.

 

The time she stole a candy bar from a liquor store in Boston when she was fifteen and nearly toppled over a young Lilian Ficent as she tried to make her stealthy getaway would forever be prominent in her story. Lily was new at the group home and followed Emma to the store. The brunette wasn’t surprised to find her stealing and squirreling away food since the group home had a lock on the refrigerator. As depressing as it sounds, it was how she bonded with her oldest friend and it set off decades of impassioned friendship.

 

She would never forget standing under an overpass with a duffel of stolen watches and lifting her hands into the air as blue and red lights flashed around her. She couldn’t forget the feeling of the damp metal bars of her prison cell door against her palm as she silently cried into her sleeve.

 

There’re dozens of moments she will never forget, but this moment, with Regina’s soft lips against hers for the second time, will be seared into her memory.

 

Their small smiles making their teeth bump slightly. Regina’s warm hands on her jaw. The goosebumps. Henry’s gasp they barely hear over the blood pounding in their ears. It’s sensory overload, but none of that compares to the emotion that floods her when she pulls back to see Regina _glowing_.

 

The brunette is enshrouded by a white glow that makes Emma squint just to see the elated smile on Regina’s face. The brunette’s wings flap outward and stretch across the room, and Emma watches as the glow starts to slither across the feathers slowly.

 

Regina tilts her chin and takes notice with wide eyes as the glow starts to pulse from white to gold and back again, over and over until Regina gasps.

 

When the brunette nearly topples over, Emma jolts out of her shock to grab Regina’s shoulders to keep her upright on the chair. She worriedly calls out Regina’s name and grimaces as the brunette groans in pain.

 

Henry rushes over and wraps his hands around his daughters’ biceps. His eyes are frantic as he looks at her glowing silhouette. It’s then that they notice the feathers on Regina’s wings are turning white. The edges are curling upward and losing their dark color, but they’re also _shrinking._ The feathers are peeling back as the skeletal ridge at the top of each wing bends back toward Regina’s shoulder blades. It looks so painful and Emma barely contains a shuddering gasp.

 

She can’t focus on her own feelings, not when Regina’s crying out in pain, her expression twisted and scrunched. Henry keeps moving his hands all over his daughter’s shoulders and neck, but he looks as helpless as Emma feels.

 

Then the glowing light travels to Henry’s hands and starts to flow across his body slowly, making the older man gasp. Regina’s too preoccupied to notice. Her wings are bent at an unnatural angle now and the feathers have started to fall off one-by-one, floating to the floor softly. Each feather glows as it falls before disappearing completely when it hits the ground.

 

Henry’s covered from head to toe, glowing iridescently in the dimly lit room, and he’s staring at his hands in awe. He doesn’t seem to be in the type of pain his daughter is, so Emma focuses on her love. There are tears running down Regina’s cheeks and her mouth is hanging open in shock.

 

Suddenly, Regina stops crying out, just as the last feather falls from the bony skeletal frame of her wings. Then the glow zips back from her extremities with enough gusto to send a gust of wind around that room that nearly knocks Henry and Emma over. The blowing air makes their eyes shut instinctively, but when hers open again, her jaw drops.

 

What’s left of Regina’s wings are gradually turning to ash that also disappears right at it hits the ground. Henry’s glow explodes outwards now, and Emma holds on to the table for dear life.

 

And then there’s ringing silence. Until a pained hiss breaks it.

 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Regina groans, her arms flailing and reaching for her back. Her fingers are stretching toward the skin between her shoulder blades and Henry immediately steps in tug Regina’s jacket off and lift her shirt. There, where Regina’s wings once attached to her back and where shoulder blades are currently protruding, are two gnarly, long, curved, pink scars. It’s what’s left of her time as an angel.

 

“What is it?” Regina cries out and Emma tenderly kisses her forehead as Henry gently prods the scars with his fingers, which receives a deep hiss and a flinch.

 

“They’re gone, _mija_.” Henry leans his forehead against the back of her head and whispers a quiet “ _you’re free”_ into her hair. Regina’s sobbing before the words are even out and Emma’s own eyes burn as she watches them.

 

“It...” Regina trails off with a sniff.

 

“It _worked_ ,” Henry finishes it for her then reaches out to grab Emma’s shoulder and shake her torso, as if saying _I told you so_.

 

“ _It worked_ ,” Regina laughs, her smile breaking through the pain and lighting up the room brighter than that glow.

They sit in the comfortable silence for a few minutes as each of them digests exactly what this all means. Henry seems conflicted, Emma can tell, but the joy is overpowering his anxiety. Regina’s smiling through the pain that sometimes causes her to wince when her bra straps grazes the tender scars. And Emma... Emma’s angry that Regina left again, that she didn’t stay and talk and give her the benefit of the doubt, but her anger is squashed at that moment by her relief. She’s just ridiculously happy that Regina came back and that their love proved true and strong enough to break the curse of a god. She’s the _Savior_ , whatever that really means.

 

She’s never been more than a lost orphan girl with no place in the world and now she’s gotten this heavy label tacked onto her. She’s not exactly sure what the prophesy laid out, and maybe it’s better not to know.

 

Right now, with the woman she loves sitting in front of her, staring at her like she hung the moon and dusted the stars, she finds she couldn’t care less what fate has planned. She’s beaten fate before. She wasn’t meant to even be alive, or maybe Regina was always her destiny, who knows, but one thing is certain: she will make the decisions and fate will have to fall in line.

 

It’s not long after that Henry must sense a tension fall over them as Emma and Regina lock gazes and tells them he needs some fresh air before making his way out of the apartment to go sit at the benches by the duck pond at the park across the street.

 

The silence stretches much too long and Emma sighs when Regina just stares at her warily. She bites the bullet for them both. “Where were you?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Regina blurts so loudly and quickly that Emma can tell the nerves are getting to her. She’s upset, of course, but they will get passed this and the last thing she wants is to make Regina believe differently even for a second. So, she interlaces their fingers and places a sweet peck on Regina’s blushing cheeks.

 

“I know, Regina. It’s alright.” Emma smiles reassuringly, “We’re just talking.”

 

“Still... I left again despite you telling me how much anxiety that causes. I promised I wouldn’t do that, and I broke that promise. I’m sorry.” Regina says it with so much sincerity that Emma feels the underlying anger in her body fade.

 

And Emma can’t deny that Regina’s actions hurt her, so she doesn’t even try to minimize it. Instead, she accepts the apology with a kiss to the back of Regina’s trembling hand. “I love you, Regina, and I just... I need you to _talk_ to me.I understand running, okay? I was a runner—hell, I’ll always be a runner—but with you... I’m trying to be better and I need you to do that for me.”

 

Regina nods immediately and the corner of her lips twitches into a small smile at the wide eyed relief that floods the brunette’s expression. Regina presses the pads of her fingers against the back of Emma’s hand in silent thanks for her quick forgiveness.

 

“I will, Emma. But I’m a work in progress,” Regina jokes. The self-deprecation is just below the surface and Emma raises their hands to kiss her fingers again.

 

With a light laugh, Emma mumbles, _“aren’t we all?”_ against the soft skin pressed to her lips. Regina’s hand isn’t trembling anymore but there’s a nervous energy surrounding the brunette that Emma can’t pin down.

 

Regina turns to look out the front windows of her apartment and Emma suddenly thinks she understands. She reassures, “Your dad will be fine. I took him to the park earlier today and he really loves feeding the geese down there.”

 

“Oh,” Regina says in a way that makes Emma realize that wasn’t where her worry stemmed from. Still, the brunette responds, “But it’s safe, isn’t it? He’s a bit sheltered—“

 

Emma chuckles at that. Henry is a quiet guy with a shy disposition, but he’s far from sheltered. He’s seen rougher places than her neighborhood, that’s for sure. The only thing that scared him earlier were the cars. _Death traps on wheels_ , he called them. “He’ll be _fine_ , Regina. He’s right across the street.”

 

The former angel nods absentmindedly, her brown eyes fixed on Emma’s parted lips, and Emma smirks when she finally registers the blatant lust visible in Regina’s dark stare.

 

The way their lips touch is almost like magnetism. She’s not sure who initiated the kiss, but their tongues are slipping past lips and retreating quickly so Emma can take Regina’s bottom, swollen lip between her own and suck gently. They come together, sway apart, and repeat, and Emma’s heart is pounding at the sheer sensuality of their rhythm. It’s passionate, but slow, like they’re taking their time in exploring.

 

It’s only their third kiss—which is staggering considering how attracted they are to one another and how neither of them is known for their patience—but it’s almost as if their lips were meant to meet. As if they were meant to be, and maybe they were. Emma certainly can’t rule it out, not when she finally feels like the decades old pain in her chest has subsided and that void has been filled with something light and wonderful and fitting.

 

“ _Em-ma,_ ” Regina mumbles huskily against her mouth and Emma’s entire body shudders. The way the woman cuts her name into two syllables has her knees wobbling.

 

Their lips reconnect, and Emma practically sees stars when Regina swipes her tongue across her lower lip. She’s been dreaming about this moment when they could finally give in to their desires, and she wants to take this farther, but Henry is just across the street and could come back any moment.

 

She pulls back from the kiss with a pained groan. “God, I wish we could keep going, but your dad—“

 

Regina cuts her off with her own pained moan and plops her forehead down against Emma’s shoulder. She smirks. Then Regina adds, “And truthfully, my back feels torn apart. But...” The brunette cradles her cheek with her warm palm and Emma leans into it, “raincheck?”

 

“As much as it pains me, yeah.”

 

They spend the rest of their alone time in each other’s arms.

 

* * *

 

Regina loves her father, she really does, but at the moment, she thinks she might burst if she doesn’t get him out of the apartment for an extended period of time. Which is nearly impossible without clueing him in to _why_ they want to be alone.

Once he returned from the park, they started going over the logistics of what needs to happen now that they’re both fully mortal again. And how to get them some alone time.

 

Emma graciously offers them her own apartment for as long as they need, but Regina wants a place of her own. Her father made a home in hell, but she never was able to, and now she has a chance to build something. And she doesn’t want to overwhelm Emma and take advantage of her kindness. And she needs a place where her father can stay so Emma can take her against every surface of this apartment.

 

Which means she and Henry need to go apartment hunting.

 

They know absolutely nothing about the real estate business in The Land Without Magic. In the Enchanted Forest, one would petition the royals for a piece of land and have to outbid fellow citizens. Emma explains that it isn’t much different, except there’s much more paperwork involved and there’s no sovereign deciding your fate. Though Emma does mention _a bank_ in jest.

 

That conversation brings them to the next issue: they technically don’t exist. They have no birth certificates, no passports, no documentation at all, and Emma seems lost for words when they turn to her.

 

“Uh, maybe the gods can help us out or something?” Emma suggests as she tosses some spaghetti into boiling salted water. The meatballs are sizzling in the sauté pan and look... crunchy. Well, Emma never claimed to be a master of the kitchen, she supposes.

 

“I have no way of contacting them,” She reminds her calmly. The pain radiating from her shoulder blades serves as a reminder that all ties to the divine have been severed.

 

“Perhaps the gods already took care of this. There must’ve been a failsafe in case the curse was broken,” Henry pipes up from the couch. “The last thing these gods want is for mortals to become aware of their existence.” He shoots a meaningful glance at Emma and Regina watches fondly as the blonde childishly sticks her tongue out at him.

 

“I could easily check if they did,” Emma says, gesturing to her phone where Regina knows the blonde keeps all sorts of contacts and apps that help her hunt down bounties. “I could do some digging and see if you guys exist on paper.”

 

She sees her father nod and swivels to smile in agreement. If anyone could find a trail of their existence, it would be Emma Swan.

 

“Well, is this it, our happy ending?” Her father whispers only for her ears, leans back in his chair and smiles at her lovingly, and Regina bites her lip to contain the grin that would no doubt be too wide to be anything other than goofy. “I suppose I could get used to this realm.”

 

“It’s not so bad,” Regina defends, though she didn’t sense any true judgment in his voice. “At least there’s indoor plumbing and heat.”

 

“Ah, yes, the hissing contraption in that tiled room,” Henry mentions with a crinkled nose and Regina can only imagine the debacle that ensued when her father came into contact with the bathroom for the first time. If Emma’s quiet amused snort is anything to go by, she’d wager it’s quite a tale. “Well, I supposed a few years with these accommodations are better than none,” He tacks on and it’s blatantly transparent. 

 

“I never answered your question about where I went, Emma,” She decides to say after a few seconds of silence. Her eyes never leave her father, but she can feel Emma’s gaze piercing into her back. “I went home, to the Enchanted Forest, to our estate.”

 

“Regina...” Henry trails off with a confused shrug. She clears her throat and doesn’t let him confusion stop her.

 

“I went home, and Tinkerbell came to see me on behalf of Zeus.”

 

“Zeus?!” Her father exclaims and nearly falls out of his chair in his haste to dart forward and grip her wringing hands. “Is everything alright, _mija_?”

 

Zeus was always a tricky personality, known to switch between hot and cold with head spinning rapidity, and their interactions with him have yielded interesting results that at times hindered their attempts at building a life in Limbo. His feud with his brother made Regina’s job a living nightmare, more so than it already was. The brothers were egotistical and prideful, and constantly argued over the right to her services. Zeus believed himself to be the god of the gods and therefore entitled to Regina’s service while Hades enjoyed reminding him that Regina was cursed to be with him for all eternity. Good thing curses have loopholes.

 

But she digresses. The point is that interactions and deals with Zeus were typically a mixed bag, which is clearly what’s fueling her father’s anxiety. This time, though, she thinks they can rest easy.

 

“Nothing is wrong,” Regina immediately soothes his doubts. Then she delivers the news. “He wants to offer us a home in Elysium when our mortal lives expire.” She turns to Emma and smiles at the awed expression she finds before adding, “All of us.”

 

Henry’s sputtering in the background and Regina has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his shock. Then he cries out joyously and she turns to see his eyes much glossier than before. He says, “ _Mija_ , we’re _free_.”

 

She can tell he actually means it this time. A weight has been lifted. She reaches out and wipes a tear from his cheek with her thumb as she kindly says, “We are.” It’s her way of sending him the message that he’s fully forgiven and the appreciative love she sees clearly in his eyes shows that he received it loud and clear. 

 

Emma’s arm slips around her shoulders and Regina breathes in the scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingling with the garlicky tomato wafting in from the kitchen and listens as her father laughs joyfully.

 

It’s a moment she’ll never forget.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Emma informs them that the breaking of the curse did indeed forge their existence in the Land Without Magic. She explains that the information about their falsified past is minimal, but enough to get them through undetected and be able to live normal lives. They dig up the fake birth certificates, passports, and even college degrees, and Regina simply breathes a sigh of relief.

 

She calls a real estate agent the very next day despite Emma’s badgering. The blonde seems to enjoy their presence in the apartment. Her true love and her father have struck a bond she’s just grateful for and they’ve spent hours upon hours talking and getting to know each other with greater depth. Still, as lovely as it has been, Regina finds an apartment quickly and begins buying furniture with funds that sprang up under her name when the curse broke (she doubts that was a byproduct of breaking Hades’ curse and suspects Zeus is attempting to assuage his guilt over his complacency with her forced servitude).

 

Emma seems a bit hurt by her eagerness to move out and she tries to explain that she needs a place to call her own. The blonde isn’t pacified but she clearly understands. She pouts about it and, at times, throws out a sarcastic comment about needing space, but the blonde, with all of her abandonment issues, takes it fairly well.

 

They find a place right down the street from Emma, which delights everyone involved, especially Henry who’s gotten too used to playing different card and board games with Emma and visiting the small park across the street. Emma and Regina like it for a whole other reason, one that consists of Regina sneaking over to Emma’s when Henry’s asleep and making out on Emma’s plushy couch until their lips are sore.

 

That’s as far as they’ve gotten, mostly because Emma pulls away and Regina doesn’t want to push, but she thinks tonight will be the night they do push past that boundary.

 

Emma coquettishly invited her to a date night at her apartment and asked if she would like to spend the night. Regina swallowed a laugh when Emma asked, because _really?_  Regina’s been bursting at the seams, needing Emma to touch her and make her feel good and loved, and Emma’s been much too chivalrous already. She’s tried grinding against her during their make out sessions only to have Emma slip a hand down to her ass and press down so her hips slotted against Emma’s abdomen, she’s attempted remove her own shirt only to be stopped by Emma palming her breast over the clothing and pinning it in place, she’s tried it _all_. She started to worry that Emma wasn’t ready, and perhaps she wasn’t until now, but she’s hoping tonight isn’t a bait and switch. She might incinerate on the spot, if so.

 

So, she slips into a new dress she bought over the weekend and appreciates the view in the mirror. It’s a deep electric blue dress that zips up the back and clings to her curves, and she feels confident as she slips into six-inch black heels. Emma won’t be able to resist.

 

Her father gives her a knowing look when she slips out of the bedroom with a small tote bag and Regina tries not to blush. It makes her feel fifteen again, like the time he caught her sneaking back into the estate home after spending a few hours with Daniel, kissing under the stars. Something about this makes her even giddier. Perhaps it’s the fact that she’s in love again, that she’s living and getting to start over in many ways.

 

She clears her throat. “I’ll be right down the street if you need anything. You learned how to use the phone, right?”

 

“Emma taught me, yes.” Henry smirks, “But I’ll make sure I don’t need you, _mija_.”

Regina sucks in a breath and nearly chokes on air. “Daddy, I’m never too busy to answer you, you know that.”

 

Henry tilts his head and teases, “Oh, there’s certain activities that may preoccupy you tonight, but please enjoy yourself and forget about me for a few hours.” He wiggles the television remote at the flashing screen where the Grinch is tossing Cindy Lou into the sorting machine, “I’ll just be here catching up on the moving pictures Emma calls classic.”

 

“They’re movies,” Regina corrects him, chuckling slightly as she does so.

 

Henry hums and smiles at the dramatic cadence of Jim Carrey’s voice. “So, this Christmas celebration...”

 

“It’s similar to our Yule.”

 

“Fascinating.” Henry doesn’t even pay her much mind as she shuffles around the room in search of her coat and scarf.

 

The weather has become quite nippy, though Emma tells her that it’s quite normal for this time of year. When they had their lagoon date, it had been mildly chilly already, but it wasn’t enough to deter their silly game of strip Never Have I Ever. Now though? Regina’s pretty sure she’d freeze into a block of ice if she didn’t wear several layers.

 

She finds the coat draped over a dining room chair and the scarf hanging off the armrest below and slips them on as quickly as she can. The clock is saying she’s already a few minutes late.

 

“Alright, Daddy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She slips the strap of her tote over the crook of her arm and waves with her free hand. He gives her a joyful smile and teasing wink that makes Regina blush bright red and trip on her way out.

 

The entire way over to Emma’s apartment is nerve wracking. She hasn’t had sex in millennia and Daniel never fully unclothed her because they made love outside and he never wanted her to be cold. So, this night with Emma would be a new experience and her hands are already shaking when she knocks on her door.

 

But when Emma opens the door in her signature tight jeans with a disarming smile and a bright-eyed look, Regina’s hands stop shaking and her breath hitches.

 

There are moments in Regina’s life that she will never forget.

 

She has a feeling tonight will be one of them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's over! It's my story with the most kudos and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. I've been so appreciative of everyone commenting, leaving kudos, sharing the story on different social media platforms, and sending me so much love. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy how the story ends!

If Emma keeps moaning with every bite she takes of that grilled cheese sandwich, Regina may be forced to do something drastic.

 

“ _Mmm_ ,” Emma moans again and licks some gooey cheese from her thumb. Regina presses her thighs together with so much force the skin chafes slightly.

 

“Emma...” Regina purses her lips. She’s taken a total of three bites of the grilled cheese the blonde made for them. It was delicious, truly, but she wanted to have something else in her mouth and she knows Emma’s being deliberately obtuse.

 

“Yes, Regina?” Emma murmurs with faked coyness and it all but confirms her suspicions.

 

And two can play at that game.

 

She lifts her slice of grilled cheese and dramatically moans when the gooey cheddar stretches from the bread to her lips as she pulls it away from her mouth. Emma’s eyes darken. Strike one.

 

“This is delicious, _Em-ma._ ” Regina says before slipping her tongue across her lower lip to catch some bread crumbs stuck to her red lipstick. Emma drops her half-eaten sandwich onto her plate gruffly, never taking her dark green eyes off of Regina’s slow-moving tongue. Strike two.

 

She leans back in her chair, crosses her left leg over her right, and smirks as the hem rides up and up and up until the lace at the top of her stockings is visible. Emma’s warbled moan makes her snort and she watches amusedly as the blonde bangs her forehead down against the wooden table. Strike three.

 

But after the blondes teasing, she doesn’t let her off that easy.

 

“What’s the matter, darling? Aren’t you hungry?” She practically purrs the last part and Emma’s head shakes against the table.

 

“I’m hungry, just not for food.” Emma’s response is muffled by the placemat under her mouth, but Regina hears her perfectly. Emma Swan is constantly proving to be a child-at-heart who can make Regina feel like one too, which is exciting and heart-warming and so _right_.

She’s spent millennia with her life on pause, and now this beautiful blonde was not only showing her how to live, she was making this second chance worth the wait.

 

Waiting a millennia to be mortal again required patience, but she’s officially run out of it.

 

“Emma,” She rasps, “please. Come here.”

 

The blonde nearly knocks her chair over in her haste and Regina’s small burst of laughter is immediately cut off by Emma’s persistent lips. Most of their kisses have been slow, sensual, a build up to this hard and fast passion. Regina tries to keep up but Emma’s too impassioned, quickly moving from slipping her tongue across the roof of Regina’s mouth to heady kisses against Regina’s neck. She moans as the blonde’s lips roam over her pulse point and latch on, sucking so hard that there’s no doubt a bruise will form.

 

“ _Emma_.” It’s the only word she can even think of at the moment. Her heart is racing, her palms are sweating, and her pussy is already slick. She can feel the wetness against her lace panties as she squirms in her seat. It would be embarrassing if she wasn’t so sure Emma is just as ready for her.

 

The blonde wraps her chiseled arms under Regina’s thighs and lifts her so her legs slide around firm, jean-covered hips. Regina’s soaked panties rub against the button on Emma’s jeans and she almost comes when the metal presses down just right on her pulsating clit.

 

“ _Oh, fu_ —“Her expletive is swallowed by Emma’s mouth. This kiss is open-mouthed, all tongue, like the blonde can barely catch her breath but also physically cannot detach from her lover.

 

They’re halfway to the bedroom when Regina starts tugging up at the hem of her dress. She needs her panties off. _Now_. Emma has other ideas. She’s tossed onto the plush bed and her dress is practically ripped off before she can even blink. She watches the blue fabric fall to the hardwood then feels daring fingers roaming over the back clasp of her bra and arches her back to give the blonde more room to maneuver.

 

When her breasts are bare, Emma’s lips land on her collarbone to lay open-mouthed kisses across her chest. Regina tries to regulate her breathing and stop her chest from heaving, but Emma’s lips feel like fire on her skin and she’s left sucking in air desperately.

 

Those thin pink lips suddenly wrap around her distended nipples and suck so hard her hips jolt up and into Emma’s chiseled abdomen. Her moans reverberate across the room and she’d be embarrassed if this wasn’t the first time she’s been pleasured in millennia. Emma also seems to enjoy her vocalizations, she notices. Every time she cries out, the fingers in her hair squeeze the brown strands until her scalp tingles.

 

Emma pulls back with a pop, Regina’s nipple falling away wetly, and then the blonde moves over to the other breast to give it the same treatment. Regina gasps when teeth run across her areola and, _god_ , she doesn’t remember sex feeling _this_ good. 

She knows it isn’t her memory failing her. It’s this connection to the woman above her, her true love, that’s making this so much more.

 

Probing fingers dip down the press against her panty-covered pussy, the pad of Emma’s index finger hitting her clit just right, and Regina’s mouth drops open into a silent scream. Then the fingers are gone and instead are slowly peeling the panties down Regina’s trembling legs.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Regina breathes. Her core is exposed to the cold air in the room, but her body is overheated, and the sensation makes her heart pound. There’re kisses being dropped on her legs, on the back of her knees, on her hips, and then that tongue teasingly swipes across her labia, not once touching anything that could bring her relief. “ _Fuck_.”

She hears and feels Emma’s amused chuckle, and she bucks her hips to slide her dripping pussy against that mouth. That’s one good way to shut her up. And one great way to move them forward apparently, because the next thing she knows, Emma’s tongue is lashing her clit roughly then soothing it with small sucks. She nearly implodes.

 

Then Emma pulls away entirely, her chin and cheeks covered in Regina’s arousal, and Regina would toss a fireball at her if she still had her abilities.

 

The blonde stares her down with intense, dark green eyes though and Regina’s practically frozen when Emma growls, “I wanna take you, fast and hard, with my cock, hmm?”

 

She’s forgiven. Regina’s nodding absentmindedly, remembering her nights with Daniel. He wasn’t very gifted considering she was his first and only lover, and he was not well endowed, but her tried and eventually used other methods to pleasure her. Still, Regina loved the sensation of being filled and her pussy contracts around nothing when she sees the sizable phallus and black intricate straps Emma pulls from the bottom drawer of her dresser.

 

She’s mesmerized as Emma slips out of her jeans and panties, showcasing her muscular ass, and into the straps, pressing the strap on through the opening in the leather. She whips off her lace blouse, which is clearly new since it’s far from Emma’s usual style and tosses it onto the floor to join Regina’s dress, panties, bra, and stockings. She’s truly a vision in only a black skimpy bra with a jutting purple cock between her legs and one hand wrapped around the toy, stroking as if it were real.

 

She remembers millennia ago, right after she began her forced servitude to Hades, she was pulled to the Enchanted Forest, a large, foreboding castle to be more precise, and there she accidentally was witness to passion between two women. The blonde woman was thrusting leisurely into the woman moaning beneath her. She felt perverse as she stood there watching, but her curiosity and the unquestionable desire the imagery brought forth had her rooted to the spot. That was the first time she understood that women could pleasure one another (and with exceptional aptitude).

 

That memory never faded, and she constantly dreamt of the moment where she could experience the pleasure she witnessed on the face of the woman writhing beneath that blonde in the castle. She’s fairly certain she’s going to be the one writhing beneath a blonde in a minute or so. The thought makes her even wetter.

 

“This okay?” Emma mumbles against the skin of her thigh when she kneels on the edge of the bed. Each syllable is accompanied by tiny, breathless kisses that make her shiver with need. The question, however, makes her heart palpitate. Consent... it’s something she’s been robbed of many times in her long life, but Emma makes sure. Emma always makes sure. It makes Regina love her even more fiercely.

 

“ _Please_...” Regina begs. She never begs, but, in this moment, she wants Emma to know how much she needs her. The blonde looks in awe and she smiles lovingly down at her before reaching down to pull her up by her chin.

 

When they’re face-to-face once more, she kisses her, hard, and it jolts Emma back into the moment. The cold plastic phallus rubs against her clit as their bodies start a natural rhythm and Regina moans into her lovers’ mouth as Emma’s tongue slips into hers.

 

Her skin is flushed, her nipples are rubbing against the lace on Emma’s bra, the tips of blond hair are teasing the skin of her neck, and her mind is slowly becoming useless as need and desire take over. It’s wonderful, she thinks, to feel so comfortable and cherished and safe in a moment so vulnerable.

 

Their kiss slowly turns into a simple touch of the lips as Emma’s hips rotate to bring the tip of the cock to Regina’s entrance. She’s soaking wet and the squelching sound would embarrass her if Emma’s eyes don’t turn a darker shade when she hears it. She’s close to begging, but Emma seems impatient now too.

 

With a quick, hard thrust, Emma buries the cock inside her and Regina’s mouth drops open as her body jolts with the forceful move. The headboard smacks against the wall and rattles the picture frames above them. They freeze like this, with Emma deep inside her and Regina’s legs writhing against the sheets and their open mouths pressed together.

 

“ _Emma, please._ ” Regina whines and it’s pitiful, but she needs the blonde to _take_ _her already._ She’s waited long enough.

 

She doesn’t have to wait much longer.

 

Emma pistons her hips back slowly but then it’s like a gunshot. Her hips pound in again and start a blistering rhythm that makes her back arch off the bed. Strong pale hands grip her hips and hold her in place to hover midair so Emma can fuck her with short, quick, and hard thrusts and jolt her body, making her breasts bounce with every slap of Emma’s thighs against her reddening ass. A scream is lodged in Regina’s throat but all she can muster is a shuddering whimper as her thighs tense around Emma’s hips.

 

She’s never been pleasured like this and it’s so good her toes curl. Emma grunts “ _Fuck_ , you’re so _tight_ ” against the corner of her mouth and a moan escapes. The blonde drops her elbows on each side of Regina’s head and the slight change in angle has her seeing stars. Whatever Emma is doing is making her race toward that peak—one that feels much bigger than usual—at an alarmingly fast rate. Then Emma’s right hand disappears out of sight and she feels two fingers rubbing tight, quick circles around her pulsating clit, and her legs snap taut against the mattress, her back arches further upward against Emma’s body, and the heat that had been building in her abdomen explodes through her body. She shakes and shakes and shakes, and Emma never stops or slows. She fucks her through it and sends Regina into another mind-blowing orgasm not even a minute later.

 

The hips slow then, but Emma’s slow thrusts are filling the room with the sound her wetness and the blonde moans. Regina doesn’t even have the energy to move but the slow thrusts are arousing her all over again.

 

When Emma’s hips start gaining speed, Regina’s body takes every thrust gratefully.

 

Yes, she thinks as Emma flips her over and enters her from behind with a willful hand keeping her down against the mattress, this was worth the wait.

 

* * *

 

Emma huffs into her cupped hands then rubs them together. She can see her breath despite her Bug’s heat being on high for the past twenty minutes. It’s really a rattling death trap and Regina’s right to want her to get a new car, especially now, but this car was her home at one point. It’s the car that she drove when she got out of prison and when she got the money from Falso’s bounty. She looks over to the empty passenger seat and remembers how she got to know Regina as they drove around New York City searching for a way out of her loan shark predicament.

 

She was hardly ever this sentimental before she met Regina. She had a small plastic bag of belongings and this car before Regina, but now she has everything and more, and maybe that’s why it matters so much. This car was her home when she met the woman that became everything to her and every item she possessed after meeting her has become nostalgic and sentimental. Hell, she refuses to throw out the over-worked purple strap on she first fucked Regina with despite their collection of toys growing so much they had to get a chest with a lock and finding new toys that make Regina unable to hold in those screams.

 

Regina teases her about the sentimentality all the time, though Emma knows the brunette secretly loves that she collects all the things that remind her of their journey. She has a box with movie stubs, letters, a picture of the house they own together, and everything else under the sun. She knows Regina likes it because she’s caught her sitting on their bed in sweats whenever she’s feeling depressed and looking through its contents, searching for some happiness and strength in those moments.

 

Being mortal came with consequences they knew would eventually take their toll, but they’re happy with how their lives unfolded. They love each other like the universe revolves around them and they still make love every night and Emma can’t imagine a life without her.

 

She peers down at her bare hand—Regina’s going to be pissed when she realizes Emma forgot her leather gloves again—and stares at the ring on her left hand. The wedding band glints in the bright sunlight.

 

She smiles at the gold band as her right-hand wraps around the door handle and throws open the door with a loud screech. Yeah, the Bug really does need to go. It’s a hazard for her and for their family. Maybe Regina will let her park it in the empty garage. They have more garage space than they need anyway.

 

She shivers as a cold blast of air hits her face and blows her hair back violently, but she keeps walking until she reaches the building she’s looking for and whips out the key Regina usually hides away in their safe. It unlocks the front door of the small building and she sighs with relief when the door shuts behind her and cuts off the frigid wind. The building isn’t much warmer but at least it takes that wind chill off her skin.

 

It takes some searching since she’s only been here a handful of times because Regina hates being vulnerable most of the time and likes to come alone.

 

But she finds him.

 

“Hey, old man,” She tries to smile but it wobbles, and she gives up. “I’m not really sure what to say. I just... I woke up from this dream where you were telling me some stuff and I felt like I had to come. When Regina sent me out for milk an hour ago, I knew it would be my only chance. You know how busy Christmas Eve is. Your daughter is probably going to rip me a new one when I get home for taking so long, but I’ll just blame you.”

 

She laughs, remembering how many times she used to blame Henry for their misadventures. Regina always deflated. She could never stay mad at her father.

 

She bends down, falls softly to her knees in front of him and recalls the dream that caused her to jolt awake and nearly cry out. “I don’t know if you were actually there in my dream or if my mind just desperately misses you, old man, but I don’t understand. You said,” She licks her lips and tries to remember the exact words, “ _Hope is the thing with feathers._ ”

 

She waits as if he’ll respond and chuckles at herself when she realizes what she’s doing. “Well, whatever you meant... you seemed happy and that’s all I care about. I know you were scared of this.”

 

The marble casket under her hand is ice cold but her heart warms as she imagines him in front of her, smiling and teasing, once more. She curses under her breath when her eyes start to burn, and tears accumulate. She’s so focused on biting her tongue to stop the tears that she nearly jumps out of her skin when a loud bang rings across the crypt.

 

She whips around and sees the culprit: a large book that fell from the wooden bookshelf Regina has set up in the room next to where Henry was laid to rest.

 

She cautiously walks over and nearly chokes when she sees the title of the page it landed on.

 

_“Hope” is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson_

“Oh,” Emma breathes, stunned. She gently picks the book up and starts to read the short poem on the page. She’s not exactly a literary genius and quickly skims over to the analysis on the left page.

 

_Full of figurative language, this poem is an extended metaphor, transforming hope into a bird that is ever present in the human soul. It sings, especially when times get tough. Hope springs eternal, might be a reasonable summing up. — Andrew Spacey_

Emma lifts a palm to cover her mouth. A sob filters through her fingers anyway. She clutches the book—a collection of Emily Dickinson poems with analysis—and turns to look at his casket, as if he is actually standing there. Maybe he is. She certainly feels him with her.

 

“Hope...” Emma smiles, tears running down her cheeks. She peers down at her rounded stomach and feels a small kick when she places her palm against it. “You like that name, kid? Hope?” Another kick against her ribs and she flinches. “Jeez, alright. I got the message, loud and clear, from _both_ of you. _”_

* * *

 

Emma grimaces when she hears the clacking of heels making their way toward the foyer. _Here we go._

“Where the hell have you been?” Regina saunters into the room in her red holiday dress and styled short hair and light makeup, and Emma has to resist the urge to take her against the front door. Fifteen years since they first kissed, and she still can’t get enough.

 

She sheepishly lifts the gallon of whole milk. “I got the milk.”

 

“I sent you to get milk,” Regina checks her watch and huffs, “two hours ago!” Regina sighs and rubs at her temples, looking immensely stressed. Emma starts to feel bad. “I wanted to make Henry breakfast in bed. It’s his last Christmas before the baby is born and we need to make it special, Emma.”

 

She deflates immediately. She didn’t mean to ruin anything or derail Regina’s plans to make this Christmas extra special. Henry hasn’t been showing any signs of jealousy, but Regina’s been anxious about the whole thing since they found out their insemination had been successful.

 

“Babe, Henry sleeps until noon anyway. Come on, let’s go make the breakfast together, alright?”

 

“But where were you?” Regina demands, hands on hips and lips pouted.

 

She steps up to Regina and sighs with relief when the brunette lets Emma hug her. Arms lift weakly and hug her back and Emma smiles into Regina’s soft hair. Once she feels Regina relax, she reveals, “I went to see your dad.” Regina’s hands twitch against her back. “I’ll tell you all about it later, but we got a moody teenager to feed first.”

 

Her ice-cold hands roam over Regina’s shoulders and the brunette groans into the crook of Emma’s neck. “You forgot your gloves, didn’t you?”

 

“No...”

 

“This is why you can’t have nice things.” Regina jokes, making Emma grin.

 

“I’ll start keeping them in my coat pocket, I promise.” Emma pacifies. Regina’s always been super protective but since they found out she’s pregnant, the overprotectiveness has grown exponentially. It doesn’t help that Granny and Red chose to open their bed and breakfast in Maine and got all of them to follow suit. The state reaches unbearably cold temperatures during the winter months. “But, since the kid is still asleep, I can think of a few ways we can warm me up.”

 

“Miss Swan,” Regina groans, but there’s enough amusement to make Emma chuckle.

 

“Babe, it’s been too long.”

 

“It’s been five hours since we made love, darling. You’re just insatiable.” Regina pulls her head back and shakes her head. “The pregnancy hormones have created a monster.”

 

“You love it.”

 

“Hmm,” Regina simply hums. There’s an agreement in there somewhere.

 

“Come on, angel. Let’s make breakfast.”

 

“Hmm, just don’t try to actually chop or cook anything.” Regina leans back and brushed some of her stray blonde hairs away from her green eyes. “I’d hate to lose you in a terrible accident. I’m quite fond of you.”

 

“Whatever you say, babe.” They link arms and start walking toward the kitchen. “Hey, what do you think about the name Hope?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Swen.


End file.
